The Tale of Flowering Fortunes
by Murasaki Fujiwara
Summary: Beneath the calm surface of Konoha, a storm rages unseen but not unwitnessed. Those lost in the unbridled fury are not forgotten. Tale of Flowering Fortunes rewrite, rated M for gratuitous violence, fight scenes, and other good stuff. Kakashi and Oc
1. Country of Cherry Blossoms

～映画物語～  
藤原のムラサキ

The searing heat from the smoldering landscape caused Murasaki's skin to prickle as she splashed through the rice paddy, the wound on her leg opening wider with each step she took. Crimson drops of blood splashed into the nearly boiling waters that swirled around her feet, her pants and sandals now thoroughly logged with water.

She and the rest of the Konoha shinobi that had been dispatched to the scene of the fight had been battling for three days with no rest. Those who hadn't died already were fatigued, as were the Iwa nin they were fighting against. It was an evenly matched battle, both sides deadlocked. Both parties had sent out a request for backup from their villages, and now the final outcome rested on who's shinobi were faster. Murasaki's sensor powers were on overdrive: it was up to her to notify her comrades as soon as reinforcements arrive, be it shinobi of Konoha coming, or shinobi of Iwa…

The War had allegedly been over for nearly four years, yet there were still pockets of resistance: small bands of fighters determined to keep their villages in business from the profits of war. The worst part was, it was an understandable cause: for the past decades, the shinobi world had been at war, punctuated every so often by a fragile, impermanent peace. For many, it was the only way they could make a living.

Behind her, Murasaki could hear the remnants of her team, once a team of four now reduced to two as they stumbled through the standing water and short growths of grain.

Spring in The Land of Rice Paddy's had been rumored to be beautiful once upon a time, but now it felt like the deepest pits of hell, drenched in fire and blood. The small, yet noble land was now the front lines of what the Hokage called a 'Conflict' between Iwagakure and Konohagakure.

Murasaki stole a quick glance at her remaining teammate, Sanjo, who's face was determined beneath his forehead protector. The slim Uchiha reached into his belt, whipping out a red paper mortar and shell, taking aim as if it were as natural as breathing.  
"On the count of three." He snarled above the sound of a nearby blast that peppered the air with smoke and blood of both friend and foe. Murasaki nodded, beginning hand seals as she saw and felt Sanjo's katon technique flare behind her, followed by a fizzle and an ear-piercing blast that shook the ground as Murasaki charged forward, only seconds behind the ball of fire, moving with the searing wind itself. Over the sound of the mortar, Murasaki could barely make out the third count, but it didn't matter.

The fourteen year old chunnin drew her shiruken, rising above the fireball as it reached the previously unsuspecting enemy. She could see the faces of Konoha shinobi and kunoichi as they battled the last of the rebel faction head-on.  
Spinning briefly in the air, Murasaki launched the weighted throwing stars moments before her olive vest was riddled with kunai and shiruken of Konoha and Iwa alike. She knew that this had to work: it was the last of her chakra before things got deadly and she exhausted it…

A senbon grazed her face, but she didn't relent, charging forward in the wake of the fireball and taking out those who were not killed or fatally injured in the blast. The rice paddy wreaked with the metallic smell of blood, the water crimson as bones and limbs stuck out at awkward, broken angles from the mire. The stench was repulsive, the coppery scent of blood permeating the air, yanking unmercifully at her gag reflexes.

Another blast resounded, and Murasaki barely had time to dodge, her sage-senses only newly tapped. She could feel the heat singe her hair as she rolled out of the way, landing hard in the mud and grass.

A slippery hand firmly grasped Murasaki's ankle, and she immediately begin to panic as a blood and mud drenched corpse rose from the depths of the mire, the man's eyes aflame with malice.

"Konoha scum!" He snapped as Murasaki reached for a kunai, finding none beneath her fingertips. Where had they gone? She'd had enough earlier…she had deliberately refrained from using them that day…

She twisted beneath him as he scraped and scratched to get to her, putting her weight on her hands and kicking him in the face only to bury both her arms deeply in the mud and filth. The kick only seemed to anger the fatally injured Iwa-nin, but she fought with all that she could, only burying herself deeper into the mud.

"Digging your own grave?" He snarled, leaning over her. Murasaki coughed and spluttered as she struggled to dig herself out, gasping for breath as she sunk further and further down. She heard him pulling out a paper bomb and arched her back, coiling her stomach muscles as she deliberately thrust herself into the mud, burying herself completely in hopes of minimizing the effects of the explosive tag. Murasaki felt the paper attach itself to her ankle moments before it slipped beneath the surface.

For a brief moment, all the blood rushed to Murasaki's head as she focused the last of her chakra on containing the explosion. She felt a ripping pain in her leg as she flew backwards through the air along with gobbets of flesh and mud. She slammed against the water, the surface tension knocking the wind out of her as she landed flat in the shallow field.

_ "I'm not going to die like this…"_ she thought as she sank, once again, into the mud under the shallow water. _"Not here…I don't believe it's my fate…"_  
Murasaki fought against the mud and roots, clawing her way out of the bog, her muddy hair clinging to her face as she gasped for air, her olive green chunnin vest weighed down with water as she stumbled towards the banks, slipping on her injured ankle. The pain made her stomach churn, the rent skin floating loosely from her leg as she pushed herself to the bank.

Murasaki stumbled forward landing face-down on the prickly grass, pushing herself up onto her elbows and crawling for cover as another mortar was fired. She could feel and hear it coming towards her, rolling out of the way just as the mortar spattered the soft ground where she had just lain. Mud and water splattered all over her, and Murasaki lay still, her heart pounding in her ears as a chill ran down her spine.

It hadn't been an enemy mortar…it had been infused with Sanjo's chakra…had he misfired? It wasn't like Sanjo to do so…

Slowly, shaking, she glanced over her shoulder. Silhouetted against the line of burning trees that surrounded the paddy-turned-battlefield, she could make out Sanjo's form, his tattered trench coat swirling in the breeze caused by the heat of fires. He was staring right at her, too.

Murasaki slowly lowered her head, remaining motionless beneath the blazing cherry blossoms, the sounds of the battle raging behind her. A million thoughts took flight in her head as she lay perfectly still, trembling on the inside. She knew it was useless to try to fool a Sharingan user, but what else could she do? She couldn't move…

It was just an accident…it had to be…

Glancing back again, she saw a flash of crimson as his Sharingan activated. Murasaki took a deep breath, stiffening her resolve. She stood shakily, turning to face her teammate, her fingers twitching just above her empty weapons holster, careful not to look into his eyes.

Even if she had no weapons, no chakra left…she wasn't going to go out without a fight. She was Jiraiya's daughter, Fujiwara Murasaki!

Without any warning, a large black bulldog appeared by Murasaki's side, it's hackles raised, snarling at the Uchiha. Murasaki froze, looking down at the dog. It was obvious it was a nin-kin, wearing a vest that had hi-no-hi-no-mo-hi-ji emblazoned on the back, but Murasaki didn't know who it came from, just that it wore a Konoha hitae-ate on it's front left leg.

That was when she felt it, faint at first, but growing closer: A little over fifty Konoha shinobi headed straight for the battleground: re-enforcements had finally arrived after three days of violent insurrection.

Sanjo turned away, running back towards the heat of the battle just as a large explosion shook the ground, sending a fresh wave of mud and debris flying in all directions. The nin-kin stood there for a moment, it's snarling dying down as Sanjo disappeared. Murasaki stood, shaking, her body wracked with pain as the dog remained by her side.

The young girl collapsed backwards on the grass, landing hard on her sore back, the flesh exposed by the holes in her rent chunnin vest scraped by the bark of a scorched cherry tree. She could feel her eyes glazing over as she leaned back against the branches, letting out a soft sigh. The blazing branches above her mixed with the milky twilight of the spangled sky, shades of crimson and yellow against the deepest blue and purple…and the stars. They had never looked so bright and so clear as they did now. If this was death, it was so calm, so heartbreakingly beautiful.

"Here beneath a pyre of blossoms  
Does the wisteria wither?  
Can one think of a more beautiful death?"

Her voice was low and soft, the ashes of cherry blossoms falling around her. It brought back a recollection of the days before, the cherry-blossom viewing parties the Daimyo had had here…right here, on this spot…with the pink petals falling around them like the embers did now.

Why did one look at cherry blossoms? It was the fleeting beauty…born to flourish, then to die…the 'melancholic nature of life' that master Kenko had spoken of just a few years before…

Murasaki knit her bows, the dog shoving his hot, dry nose beneath her hand in a forced pet. The soft flock of the dogs sable fur seemed to crackle with electricity and Murasaki smiled, leaning her head back and closing her eyes against the heat.

"If in order to fall, the blossom must first flourish…then it is not my time, my friend."

_ "But even sometimes a blossom is blown from the tree before it's given a chance to bloom."_ She thought quietly, closing her stinging eyes from the smoke and embers that were surrounding her, jealously consuming her lungs as her eyes burned.

She was aware: aware of the dying throws of the battle, the 'heartbeat' of the earth below her, the dying trees behind her. She could feel the chakra of the dog beside her, of the Konoha nin coming closer. They were passing her now…one was hesitating, turning back…he was standing beside her now…

She smiled serenely, opening her eyes.

"Just in time." She whispered to the silver-haired ANBU captain.

XxX

Murasaki's leg was still tender even three days after Konoha's backup had arrived and quashed the rebellion in one fell swoop. She didn't complain, though. She was tougher than that, and there were people much worse-off than she.

The small band of survivors stood together in the Hokage's large office, the windows shut to the closing of the day. Though Sarutobi kept the office cool, the air felt heavy and close.

Murasaki could feel the weight of the others grief, magnifying her own state of despair. She was beyond tears as she stared blankly at the Hokage, flanked by two ANBU, an emissary form Iwagakure stood stiffly to his left. His face had taken on a hardness that he reserved only for times when he was pressed. All the survivors braced for the words they all knew would spill fort from the old man's mouth.

"For the sake of peace," Sarutobi began heavily, looking at each of them in turn. "This incident is going off the record. It never happened. Those were rebels you were fighting, those going against Iwaga-"

"I know what I saw out there! Those were no rebels!" A boy about three years younger than Murasaki snapped. "How can you let them get away with this?"

"Quite, Hideyori." Murasaki said, casting him a worried glance. She couldn't help but agree with him, but there was a game to be played, even now.

"My father and brother are dead because of them. Because-" Hideyori's sensei, Michiko, suddenly grabbed him, placing her hand over his mouth. The boy struggled in anger and frustration, which only resulted in him being dragged out. Murasaki felt immeasurable guilt, her eyes wet with tears as she watched him being dragged away, kicking and screaming. The emissary was not impressed, casting them all a smug smile. They must have appeared sloppy and undisciplined to him…

"Is this the captain?" The emissary asked, raising an eyebrow as he indicated Murasaki. Murasaki recognized him from a year before. He had been on of the lead interrogators when she was in the hands of Iwa. As she stared into his withered face, she could feel the scars on her back and legs sear as if they were still fresh.

"No, sir, I'm just a chunnin." She said softly, bowing her head politely. Her fingers twitched, her pulse boiling with anger. Was Sarutobi really just going to throw away the sacrifices of those who had died? And Iwa? Iwagakure wasn't even getting punished for breeching the treaty…they weren't even getting a slap on the wrist…

She took a deep breath, keeping her composure. Murasaki's eyes welled with tears of anger, which were thankfully mistaken for tears of grief.

"How nice." The emissary said almost snidely. Sarutobi cleared his throat, giving them one last warning before they left.

"As I said, if any one of you speaks of this incident to anyone outside of this office, you will be considered a traitor to the village and imprisoned."

"I'm surprised that you have to give your shinobi such a harsh warning. They seem so disciplined." The emissary said with cold amusement, his dark eyes agleam with glee. Sasrutobi's mouth became a thin, hard line, but he kept his composure.

"You are all dismissed." Sarutobi said stiffly.

XxX

Danzou glowered down at the report in his hand, the sounds of the young ROOT operatives training outside the open window filling his darkened office.

"Fujiwara Murasaki was part of the Iwa Conflict? And she survived?" He said, looking up at the ROOT member who stood in front of his desk. The ROOT member nodded stiffly without speaking, hollow black eyes watching the older man behind the desk.

"And you didn't stop her? You had the chance." Danzou said, tucking the report into a folder. "I'm not a forgiving man." he sighed, handing the ROOT member new papers. " You have one last chance to redeem yourself, but no more of your games. Fujiwara has to be silenced."

The ROOT member nodded, bowing before he left. Danzou sat back as the man closed the door. Had he only been in the area when the daimyo had chosen the Fourth's successor…he wouldn't have to worry about this…and Konoha wouldn't have grown so soft…

"01957." He called, the ROOT operative appearing before the older man had time to finish. "Bring me Megumi-san. I need a word with her father."

The ROOT member bowed obediently and vanished.

He sat back, rubbing the x-shaped scar on his chin, thinking deeply about what needed to be done in order to lay the tracks for himself becoming Hokage. All he needed was five minutes with Orochimaru in order to set his plan into motion.

XxX

_A/N: Long dreaded, er, awaited...uh, yeah...you can thank Owl City and System Of A Down for this.  
_

_Maybe my attempts to de-suify her went awry..._

_Also, copypasta this into your browser, it's freaking awesome fan art!I had to put spaces in there, but it's AMAZING!  
_

http : // gaarajamie88 . deviantart. com /art / Murasaki -and -Kakashi- 150188441


	2. Town Of Evening Calm

～映画物語～

藤原のムラサキ

Murasaki sat quietly at Irchiraku ramen, picking absently at the fried noodles and pushing the vegetables away with her chopsticks. Her father sat beside her, slurping his noodles noisily as his bulky frame filled her right field of vision.

"Something wrong with your noodles, sweetheart?"

"No, they're good…" She said softly, picking up a piece of egg and inspecting it carefully.

"Is there another reason why you haven't eaten for the past three days? I'm guessing it has something to do with your last mission…"

Murasaki sighed, putting her chopsticks down and staring at her food.

"Dad…I can't handle this anymore."

The small ramen stand was silent, save for the sound of Ichiraku-san frying noodles for a take-out order. Ichiraku's nine-year-old daughter sat on the other end of the counter, humming softly as she did her homework.

"What, exactly, is it that you can't handle?" Jiraiya asked carefully after a few moments.  
Murasaki took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

"I'm not allowed to talk about it…It's just, being a kunoichi, and watching my comrade's die, sacrificed and thrown away like garbage…"

Jiraiya put his chopsticks down and looked carefully at his daughter. The fourteen year old had grown so much since he first met her…perhaps she had finally come to an understanding of what it meant to be a tool called Shinobi?

"You are having second thoughts about being a kunoichi?"

Murasaki squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't know. I can't tell you what happened, and that's what's tearing me apart the most. Those people who aren't coming back, just cast aside like garbage…I can't help but think that, what if it had been…" She stopped, frowning.

"You." she finished feebly, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach as her mind jumped to thoughts of Kakashi.

Jiraiya sighed, signaling to Ichiraku-san that they needed takeout bowls. "Murasaki, you know this world…what is it that you are always calling it, the melancholic nature of life? The Mono no aware. You said yourself that life is fleeting, especially that of a shinobi. It is true that someday I will die, as will you, but that is a risk we all take. We are tools for the benefit of the Daimyo, for the protection of the Village and the civilians therein." he paused to thank Ichiraku-san for the take-out bowls before he continued.

"When we choose to become shinobi, we are turning ourselves into objects…"He said, pouring the contents of the bowls into the disposable containers.

"It just doesn't sit right with me…" Murasaki said, motioning to her chest as if there was a hole there.

Jiraiya nodded, standing up and looking around. "Let's discuss this at home, okay? This is not the best place…"

Murasaki nodded, sliding off the stool and falling into step beside her father. She knew full well that they most likely wouldn't discuss anything when they got home. They had a good relationship, perhaps abnormally good, but they often forgot what they were going to discuss. Once they got home, Jiraiya would go out and 'gather information' for the books he was writing, and Murasaki would spend her evening corresponding with Lady Ise and Chiriku as well as writing her own stories. Occasionally, she would get a letter from Asuma, with a note she would take to Kurenai, but she and her father usually digressed once they got home.

Murasaki barely looked up as she walked steadily beside her father. She could tell he kept glancing sidelong at her, but said nothing for a very long time. Murasaki kicked at a pebble as several shady looking people shuffled past. The clunk of Jiraiya's geta on the loose gravel of the street rang in Murasaki's head, filling it with a dull ache.

XxX

The cool darkness of Murasaki and Jiraiya's shared apartment proved to be the worst hell Murasaki had endured. As each hour passed in endless succession, she tortured herself without meaning to do so, replaying the events of The Conflict in her mind.

Jiraiya had left hours ago, night having long since fallen on Konoha.

Murasaki had been dreading this time of night since she had gotten back from that ghastly mission in the Land of Rice.  
Every night, she would gradually become a victim of her own torturous mind. She was dying to tell someone, anyone, just what the Hokage had done, what had happened, and the injustice she felt.

But on the other hand, she knew that it was indisputable, and that every time a shinobi went into battle like that they knew full well that that could be their fate.  
Murasaki lay on her bed, the dim light that emanated from the window casting everything in an eerie blue tone. She heaved a heavy sigh, closing her eyes with no where to go but to sleep.

XxX

The moonlight pierced the shadows beside Jiraiya and Murasaki's apartment, the figure of a man in his late teens sat alone, his legs swinging freely over the edge of the tall building as if he were ready to just leap off.

Kakashi sat, contemplative and masterfully silent as he stared into the older man's apartment, the silver-blue moonlight falling across a face tortured in slumber. A frown crossed his features, his chest suddenly feeling tight as his eyes burned at the corners.

The memory if Murasaki beneath the burning cherry trees, her face ashen-pale, her face a portrait of sheer serenity…the thought almost brought Kakashi to tears. He had almost been too late again.

The slender ANBU's eyes never left the face of the girl in the apartment as he tried to pry his mind away from such macabre thoughts: his family had a history of depression, and this was not helping….

"Anything worth repeating."

Kakashi cast a lazy glance over his shoulder after taking a moment to regain composure.

"Ah, sorry, Jiraiya-sama…" He said, scratching the back of his head and arching his eyes upwards sheepishly. "I was just lost on the path of life again…"

"Right…" Jiraiya said in a tone that said he didn't believe him, setting himself comfortably beside the teen.

"Where would you like me to begin?" Kakashi asked, watching as Murasaki rolled over in her sleep, the pale light from the moon making her face appear even more ghostly.  
"How about with the Iwagakure incident."

"Isn't that a little personal?" Kakashi asked reluctantly.

"Yes, but I want to know what has her so upset. She's not eating, barely sleeping…something happened out there and I want to know what, something she's not allowed to talk about." Jiraiya said, taking his pipe out of his pocket and packing it. There was an exponential amount of silence on the rooftop before Kakashi broke it with a low voice.

"It was one of the worst battle's I'd ever seen." Kakashi said narrowing his visible eye and looking up at the moon, which was reflecting off of the porcelain mask he had pulled up on top of his silver mane. "The entire rice paddy was red with blood, doused in flames…if the heat didn't kill you, organized bands of Iwa-nin did…and I got there towards the end of it. After the peace talks earlier in the week had gone down hill, there was three days and nights of fighting…"

Jiraiya made a grunting sound as he lit his pipe, motioning for Kakashi to continue. Kakashi arched his back slightly before continuing.

"I don't know exactly what happened…I sent Bull out ahead of me to find her specifically. If we hadn't got there sooner…" Kakashi trailed off, his voice faltering ever so slightly. "Sarutobi-sama has decreed it to be a village secret, in the name of peace. Even talking about the incident is treason…just like with the kyuubi."

"I see…that's…interesting…" Jiraiya said darkly, moving his pipe away from his mouth. The rooftop fell into silence, Kakashi's heart hammering against his chest as Murasaki got up, turning the lights on. He shouldn't be feeling this way…it was wrong, he was an ANBU captain…who felt such concern for a girl that it nearly undermined his loyalty to Konoha…

"Another thing…about ROOT…" Kakashi said suddenly, surprising even himself. "I hear they're looking for Orochimaru now…"

Jiraiya put his pipe down for a moment. "Is that so? And how do you know?"

Kakashi was silent. The real reason he knew he wasn't sure he could ever reveal to Jiraiya…

"It's just a rumor." Kakashi muttered.

"Hn." Jiraiya said, placing the pipe back between his lips. "That's interesting, troubling…" He muttered around the lacquered stem.  
More silence followed, Kakashi feeling, for the first time, uncomfortable around Jiraiya. The sannin sensed this, looking over at Kakashi.

"Is there more to this 'rumor', Kakashi?"

Kakashi shook his head without missing a beat. "No, it's just a rumor I heard."

The rooftop fell silent as a moth fluttered up from a nearby streetlamp, crossing the moon as Kakashi followed it with his eyes. It felt like a million moths were fluttering inside his stomach.  
The truth was, Megumi had come to him with a proposal a week and a half before. She had told him that he would have trouble with his Sharingan in the future, potentially fatal trouble, and that she could fix that with her father's help. When the initial offer was made, Kakashi's first thought was of Murasaki.

It was all he could do to keep from killing Megumi. She had broken into his apartment and was sleeping in his bed, on top of that, she was now considered a rogue ninja…kill upon first sight were his orders.

Then she had the audacity to make the proposal while wearing only his shirt, since her clothes were drying in his dryer…

Megumi would help him with his future problem, if she could become his lover…

There on the moonlit rooftop, Jiraiya seemed to know his thoughts, looking at him patiently as if to reveal all that had transpired.

"It's Megumi?" Jiraiya said, the pipe smoke curling silently through the air.

"Yeah." Kakashi said sharply, looking away guiltily.

"You need to tell me these things." Jiraiya said patiently, like a father would say to a son.

Kakashi suddenly found himself spilling the entire story out to Jiraiya, including his thoughts and emotions. Jiraiya listened in patient silence, his face that of sheer kindness. When Kakashi finally fell silent, as close to the verge of tears as he could get, Jiraiya took his pipe out of his mouth, resting his hand on his knee and looking squarely at the son of the White Fang.

"You listen to me, boy, you have a decision to make, and from the sounds of it, soon. But if there is one thing you need to heed, it is this: DON'T LET OROCHIMARU GET HIS HANDS ON YOU."

* * *

Authors Note: wow, update. I was worried I couldn't do so. I'm such a paranoid (and lousy) editor. I've had writers block/fear for the past bit, but hopefully it's gone for a bit.

review plox?


	3. The Seed Planted

～映画物語～

藤原のムラサキ

Murasaki breathed heavily, sweat pouring down her face as the sun beat down on her. This was her least favorite way to spend her free time, but since The Conflict, it had been the only way for her to find some ease, her inkstone and brush now laying forgotten on her desk.

There was no solace in this, just mindless physical exertion that resulted in eventual exhaustion. No solace could be found. Her soldier side told her to suck it up and move on, but she had been human before she became a tool of the Village, and Murasaki could never let that part go.

She leapt and twisted, her spirit becoming one with the world around her as she had learned to do. Murasaki could feel everything: the animals, the plants, the subtle changes in the air, the circular ebb and flow of life itself. Not far away, she could feel the chakra of the Villagers moving about on their daily routine, ANBU reporting in, merchants moving out…  
It was calming and maddening simultaneously.

A familiar chakra drew near as Murasaki felt herself falling towards the ground, catching herself on hand and knee, the dirt splitting away as her chakra dispersed into it.

"Nice moves. You may want to tuck your elbows a bit when you land, though. I've seen better shinobi than you sprain their wrists doing that."

Murasaki stood up, her body growing rigid as she brushed a strand of dirt-brown hair away from her face. She was at quite a loss for words at who was drawing towards her, his silver hair glinting in the blinding sunlight.

"You're covered in dirt." Kakashi said with a note of scorn.

Murasaki rubbed her face on her elbow, frowning.

"Well…" she breathed, her voice wispy and out of breath. "It's not a matter of beauty."

"You're going to exhaust your chakra of you continue."

"I need to push it as far as I can. It's dangerous, but it's clear that I need to work on my capacity." She said, her chest heaving wildly, a sudden chill coming over her.

"Take a break, come sit down. I wanted to talk to you." Kakashi said, his muscles rippling slightly under his snug shirt. He put his hand on her back, as if to make sure the former shrine-maiden didn't escape. Murasaki's body was shaking by now, which caused Kakashi's eyebrows to knit beneath his forehead protector. "Don't you pass out on me. You're chakra looks shaky…"

"I won't pass out, I'll be fine." Murasaki said miserably, eyeing him wearily as they sat beneath a large maple tree. He smiled, handing her a canteen of water out of his pouch.

"You pushed yourself too far this time." He said in a maddeningly cool, calm tone.

"What did you want to talk about."

"I just wanted to talk, or maybe just sit in silence for a while...either way it'd be fine." Kakashi fell silent, leaning back against the tree and taking the empty bottle from Murasaki's hand.

"Just tell me what you want." Murasaki said, her heart hammering against her chest without any hint of slowing down. Maybe she had pushed herself to far this time.

Kakashi sighed, lines drawing at the corners of the seventeen year old's eyes.

"I'm about to do something that I'll probably regret. It's going to be really stupid, and may get me killed. I just want to know something…"

Murasaki's heart stopped as Kakashi spoke. These words had something deeper to them, something he wasn't saying…was he…? No…Kakashi could have his pick of any girl in the village, which he had a habit of demonstrating.

No, it couldn't be. It was just wishful thinking on her part, right? There was a long period of silence that befell the training field. A small cluster of yellow butterflies danced across the green grass before a soft breeze thwarted their movements. Murasaki watched in silence as the cloud of fluttering yellow scattered and couldn't help but think how similar it was to she and Kakashi.

Everyone was together, uninhibited and free, until the wind came and scattered them…some fell, while other's just scattered away.

Kakashi stretched, looking at Murasaki with a sigh and a smile. "Meh, never mind. I'm sure I'll be fine. I always am."

Murasaki remained silent, drawing her knees up and resting her head between them, her heart still pounding as she sat there. Kakashi followed her gaze as two of the butterflies returned, fluttering around each other in circles.

"What happened, after they died…why did everyone scatter to the four winds…?" Murasaki asked suddenly, immediately regretting it. She didn't want to know the answer...

Kakashi furrowed his brow, pulling up a fistful of grass and scattering it to the ground.

"In all honesty…pain. You don't want to hear this…but every time I look at you I see them…I can't stand it sometimes, because it's everything I could have done, but didn't. So I distance myself from you, because I have to. I have to move on. For the sake of the Village."

Murasaki's heart slowed to a dull, painful rhythm, her naturally upturned lips curving downwards as the ache of sadness filled her. "I understand completely."

The jounin stood up, offering his hand. A sudden realization hit Murasaki as she struggled to look up into Kakashi's masked face: He had been there. He was the ANBU that had rescued her after the Conflict…

He cast her a knowing glance, a sad smile playing at the corners of his visible eye. Murasaki stood up on her own, smiling back at him. "Thanks, but I don't kneed the help…"

Kakashi's visible eye arched, and the fabric over his mouth moved into a smile.

"That's what I like about you…" Kakashi said, ruffling her hair slightly. Murasaki blushed at the contact and he stopped, his hand still on top of her head. He leaned down, kissing her forehead through his mask, the soft fabric ghosting over her skin.

"Take care." He whispered, turning away. Murasaki watched him go, the cloud of butterflies flitting around her ankles as she watched him disappear into the misty haze of the Spring day.

XxX

The room was filthy. It wasn't a matter of grime and dirt, but there was a feeling to it; the dimness of the yellowed lights shining in the stone walls, a distinctive smell…the overall tone in the room seemed almost diseased, unwell…

But the thing that made it seem filthy was Kakashi's own mind. Ever since he'd left Konoha on leave five days before, there had been this sense hidden deep inside his subconscious that he himself was dirty…his initial contact with Megumi had only soiled him to the point of no return.

But he had to pretend, as in a charade, that he was madly in love with her.

Now he stood silently in a room, Megumi's black hair shining in the dim lights as she moved before him.

Megumi wasn't unattractive, in fact, it was quite the opposite. She was small, slender, and pale with long dark hair and the slightest hint of purple around her eyes made her look even more frail and delicate.

It was her attitude, her reputation that repulsed him so.

Megumi was clever, and particularly vicious towards other girls, friend or foe, often employing manipulation to get what she wanted. It made Kakashi worry that maybe he was in some way a victim of this, but it made him all the more attentive. After all, turnabout was fair play.

Megumi dressed in short kimono and gladiator sandals, like a woman who might work in a brothel or a cheap cabaret. Everything about her, even her 'fierce' act, seemed fake, flawed, and cheap.

She wasn't willing to get her hands dirty, really dirty: to work for the abilities she coveted, to work for the affections she was so wanting…she wanted it to all fall into her hands. Yes, Megumi had had her fair share of hardships, but they had made her no better: she simply dwelt on them and used them against others in a subtle form of manipulation known as pity and mercy.

Perhaps there was something about her that inspired such feelings, but they would vanish after a short time as if she could turn them on and off like a light switch, and the moment she felt them fading, they would be on again. It was not a becoming trait, but it was effective.

Kakashi prided himself in the fact that she was transparent to him, he could see right through her cheap tricks, but unfortunately it made this mission harder.

Espionage, in the form of being someone's lover, was much easier if one has some small semblance of affection for the other. There were women of much less worldly value in Kakashi's past that had meant much more to him, even after the illusion of affection was gone. Megumi had to be the first in which he personally found no merit.

Perhaps this sense of her worthlessness played upon his own reluctant desire to feel important in the role of the village, and that somehow he was falling short of this role. But then again, perhaps his opinion of Megumi, and all women, hinged upon a juxtaposition with Murasaki.

"You know I'll have to go back soon, they'll notice I'm gone…" He said, leaning back against the headboard of the bed as Megumi sat up, her amber eyes gleaming like two sparks as her lips curved into a smile.

"Oh, come on…" She said, crawling closer until her face was inches from his, her slender form trembling over his. "You don't need them, you have me, and Otogakure…I can give you everything you need."

Kakashi stopped, pretending to consider as he recalled the excuse he'd made up.

"What kind of lover would I be if you supported me like that?" He asked, touching her face tenderly. "It hardly seems fair to you."

"You're so traditional." She cooed, her hair falling between them like a curtain of black silk. "But you should know…I'm not the traditional kind of girl." Megumi murmured against his lips as she straddled his thighs.

Kakashi swallowed, knitting his brows as he tried to find a way out of this one.

* * *

A/N: Fie on not having 30 chapters to a story! I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want from now on! I mean, as far as this story goes...

Pffft.

review please? I need the encouragement/inspiration right now.


	4. The Hungry Ghost Returned

～映画物語～

藤原のムラサキ

XxX

The months had passed monotonous succession, Murasaki now confined to the Missions room and the Hokage's office. Why Sarutobi had suddenly chosen to tighten her reigns evaded her, but she took the work like a good little soldier. Nothing could erase the effect of the Conflict: she was so much changed, as was everyone else who had experienced it.

Murasaki's heart had festered with antipathy for Kakashi, stemming from his mocking kiss. For some reason, this had changed her personality greatly. She didn't feel like laughing the way she had before, she simply set about her tasks with mindless monotony. It was as if life had lost all meaning and beauty.

There was no stirring in her heart to write anymore, her inkstone laying forgotten in the drawer of her desk, the inksticks and brushes scattered about the floor in a midst of clothes and papers. Depression had seized Murasaki, and not even the cheerful company of Gai or the secretly codependent attitude of Iruka could bring her out of it.

But somehow, in these situations, people find the strength to pick up and move on. It was a struggle for Murasaki, Kakashi's jeering actions always laying under the surface of her mind, but she found that she could at least pretend to not dwell on it.

It was a blissfully mild mid-summer morning. Murasaki sat at the kitchen counter-turned table, her usually heavy, traditional clothing reduced to a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, her chocolate hair pulled away from her neck in a high ponytail.

Today was one of those beautiful, rare days that she had devoid of any duty as a kunoichi that didn't come by nature. Today, she was merely a teenage girl.  
Jiraiya came out into the room, stretching his muscles in the cool air and scratching his stomach.

Without a word he came into the kitchen, kissing the top of his daughters head, and opening the refrigerator.

"What are you planning on doing today?"

"I didn't really have plans, I just figured I'd relax…"

"Relax? You mean you aren't go to train today?"

Somehow, the placid surface of Murasaki's brain rippled, and she forced herself not to think of the reason why she trained so hard on her days off.

"No…I think I deserve a break." Murasaki said as Jiraiya popped the marble on his soda bottle.

"Oh do you?" He asked, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. "Careful you don't get rusty."

Murasaki scoffed, stretching her back, reaching an open hand towards the white ceiling. She felt miles away from the woman she'd been on the battlefield so many months before, and perhaps, for the first time in many years, she felt mildly normal, if such a thing existed.

There was a knock on the door and both father and daughter paused, Murasaki staring at the door in horror. Jiraiya glanced at her as he set the soda bottle down with a frown.

"Murasaki?"

Without giving her father a chance to stop her, she bounded over the counter, wrenching the door open with the fierceness of a lioness.  
Uchiha Sanjo stood there, his frame oddly frail looking as he smiled broadly at her, pulling his hat off to expose his tousled black locks.  
"Saki-chan, are you surprised to see me?"

Murasaki felt her father yank her out of the way as a kunai missed her throat by a hairsbreadth, crimson roaring in the Uchiha's eyes like two inextinguishable flames.

"Dad! Don't look into his eyes!" Murasaki cried as her father threw her with such force, the sheetrock caved as her spine collided with the wall. She got back up again, spitting the dust out of her mouth as her father engaged the rogue Uchiha in combat, grappling him and throwing him to the ground. Sanjo was clearly not concerned with his own safety, fighting free of Jiraiya and making the hand seals for a katon technique.

Jiraiya and Murasaki moved on either sides of him as a steady stream of fire burst forth. Jiraiya tossed a kunai, and Murasaki caught her finger in the looped handle, spinning it in her hand. The father and daughter team struck strategically into Sanjo's neck. Blood poured forth, but he wasn't about to relent, his own kunai swiping at Murasaki in desperation, gashing her shirt across the stomach.

"Murasaki, run, get out of here!" Jiraiya snapped, stepping between them faster than Murasaki could detect, the flames from the katon jutsu licking up behind her, the kitchen now scorched and black as the apartment filled with caustic smoke.

"Dad…"

"Just go." he roared over the flames, grabbing Sanjo's black hair as he plunged a kunai into the teens lower back.

Murasaki sped past them, Sanjo's kunai nicking Murasaki's cheek as she ran into the early morning sunlight, her eyes watering from the smoke. Sanjo was on her heels, his face resembling that of a demon as he pursued her. They only advantage she had over him was her relatively uninjured state, though her cheek stung slightly from the gash.

She turned, launching a kunai straight at his chest. He blocked it deftly, his Sharingan almost gleaming in the sunlight.

Murasaki tripped over a trashcan as she clutched the wall for support, the gravel street biting at her bare feet. The kunoichi leapt onto a rooftop, gripping the clay tiles for support as she dangled for a moment. Sanjo grabbed her heel, and she let go, turning and kicking him in the face with a terrible crunch as the ball of her foot crushed his cheekbone and she broke her own large toe.

He let go and she landed on her feet, twisting her ankle, but not ready to give up the ghost. She reversed the pursuit, chasing after him as he scrambled away, her former teammate flinging shiruken wildly at her as he backed away. Murasaki was aware that some were lodged in her arms, but she had to continue her advance, drawing on her chakra and striking with her bad foot. First kick failed, but she pirouetted, disrupting and redirecting the airflow like a blade and struck directly into his torso, her chakra going much deeper than she expected. He wretched, coughing up blood and seized her leg as if to tear it out of it's socket.

The shamaness fell hard, bruising her hip as he clawed his way on top of her, his face dripping blood.

"Come on, Saki-chan…you couldn't kill me…" He whispered with a smooth sweetness she'd never heard before, his face dipping close enough that his lips brushed against her cheek.

Murasaki curled her leg to her chest, kneeing him between the legs before scrambling away, running along the busy street.  
Murasaki's mind was numb. She wasn't actually going to kill him, was she? No, she couldn't possibly! They were comrades, teammates, friends…she couldn't…  
But he could.

Murasaki took a deep breath: it was just a matter of either outrunning or outsmarting him. The Sanjo she knew was relatively easy to outsmart, but how much of that was an act, she no longer could be certain.

She bolted up the street, her ankle finally giving out as she pitched forward, a burst of blood coming from her nose as her face collided with the dirt. For no reason at all save pain, tears sprang into her eyes and she got up, stumbling forward. Sanjo was closing in on her…  
Her nimble fingers were slick with blood and sweat as she formed hand seals: bird, dragon, tiger...

"Crown Chakra Gate Spiritual Release: five percent limitation."

XxX

Kakashi quickened his pace as he leapt through the trees on a return trip to the Village. It had been a reluctant trip back, knowing he would face many questions from Jiraiya and Sarutobi-sama alike, questions requiring details Kakashi wasn't entirely certain he wanted to answer. But he was glad to be rid of Megumi for a while, free from her nagging, simpering presence.

The Village was drawing closer, or vise versa, the scent of smoke tinting the air slightly. Kakashi quickened his pace, his limbs tingling with excitement and energy. There was chakra in the air, a large amount of it, and it made his skin crawl slightly.

His feet had no more touched ground just inside the gate when three ANBU rushed past him as sirens screeched through the summer air.  
"What happened?" Kakashi asked, turning to the gate-guards for an answer. One of them shrugged with mild interest before returning to his paperwork, while the other raised an eyebrow.

"Someone's kid set their apartment on fire with a katon or something…"

Kakashi let out a sigh of relief, easing his shoulders. If that's all that it was…

But still, there was a strange feeling deep in his chest that there was something amiss.

The clouds floated across the sky on their lazy way, the smoke disappearing into the vast expanse of blue.

* * *

A/N: hmm, sorry for the short chapter and lack of updates. Life is throwing me a few punches this year :(

I loved coming up with her jutsu's. I got the inspiration for her Spiritual Release from Trinity Blood and a little bit Bleach. Just be glad I'm not drawing inspiration from Hellsing ;)


	5. The Shamaness' Revenge

～映画物語～

藤原のムラサキ

Murasaki hastened, her limbs shaking with pain and the impending release of spiritual pressure. Stumbling slightly on her bad ankle, she grabbed a large trash can and pitched it straight at Sanjo's face.

She could feel the chakra of several people closing in to intervene, but at the rate her Crown chakra was opening, the wouldn't come fast enough.

Sanjo dodged the trash-can, but the distraction was enough for her to escape, skirting around a crowd of puzzled people. One of the men in the crowd was carrying a Shakujo staff, and she grabbed it as she ran past, yanking it out of his hand and turning as Sanjo pushed people out of the way.

Murasaki felt her Crown Chakra open suddenly like a great eye in her mind, releasing a minute fraction of her unnaturally prevalent spiritual energy into her body, her limbs seeing to move on their own volition.

Murasaki moved the staff, dropping into a fighting position that she had learned at the temple with Chiriku. Sanjo smiled again, the slenderness of his aquiline features making him look almost vampiric, the blood drying with the dirt on his crushed cheek.

There were no words spoken between the two as they stood, facing each other. Murasaki's heart was burning with sadness and anger: she'd trusted him, cared for him, watched out for him, loved him…the pain of betrayal, and the hatred contained within grew like a seed in her mind, and for the first time in living memory, she felt her Spiritual energy flicker slightly.

"Saki-chan, you've released you spiritual energy, haven't you?" Sanjo asked, his tone lazy as he stood a theoretically 'safe' distance away from her, a smile playing across his thin features.

Murasaki made an impatient sound, making the first move, sweeping the staff through the air and sending a air-blade spinning towards her former teammate.  
He dodged, the air sweeping back around and striking him in the leg as he rolled out of the way.

"Forward today, aren't you?"

"It's rude to keep a lady waiting." Murasaki said softly, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end as the color of embarrassment rushed to her cheeks.

"Well, then, let me oblige you." His hands became a blur of white and as fast as the wind, a wave of fire came sweeping over her.

Murasaki barely had time to react, putting up a barrier of air. Sanjo swept back, hitting her with a barrage of fire, wearing down on her defenses.

"You're a fool, Murasaki. A stupid little girl. Just accept your fate. Your powers, wind is useless against mine…"

Murasaki felt her arms tremble, her chakra flickering slightly. Sanjo's chakra was much larger than her own, but her control was better. Unfortunately, her spiritual release would wear out soon enough. The ANBU and police were coming, but something seemed to be slowing them down. Sanjo was telling the truth: fire and air are complementary, but opposing…wind only fanned the flames….

Murasaki's air pocket burst as Sanjo blew another fireball. She rolled out of the way, falling against her cheek, her neck twisting until it nearly snapped from strain.  
"Idiot!" Sanjo roared, running towards her.

Murasaki let out a gasp. "You set up a barrier! You chased me into your barrier and put it up after I got in!"

"Now we're getting somewhere…" He laughed, drawing a short sword out of it's place on his back, the blade gleaming like flames in the sunlight. He was fast, giving Murasaki no time to react, no time to form any hand seals or draw on her chakra.

It was only her and the staff as defense, and she was beginning to wear out, her chakra down to half it's already small capacity.

Sanjo's tactic was clear: he was going to wear her out, then kill her. He swung his sword down, missing her leg by inches.

She pivoted on the palms of her hands, putting her hand on the staff and pushing her chakra into the staff and kicking Sanjou in the stomach. He was distracted long enough for her to push all of her chakra into the staff, save for the last undetectable fraction.

It was dangerous, but she'd done it before, only once, the last day she'd seen Kakashi…

She fell to the ground with a gasp and a moan, Sanjo standing over her with a smile.

It had to work…it had to, she just had to hang on to the last of her chakra, enough to stay alive…barely.

"Saki-chan…" Sanjou said in a mocking tone, stepping hard on the hand that clutched the staff, crushing the fingers as he forced her to let go, kicking the staff away. It spun in the gravel, landing fifteen feet away "You should know better than to do that around a Sharingan user…though I must admit, it's pretty clever…"

He reached a pale hand down, grabbing the front of her tattered shirt and lifting her to her knees until they were face to face. Murasaki kept her eyes on his lips, unwilling to look into his crimson stare.

"You're pathetic…you can't even look into the eyes of your opponent…your body is bruised and broken, and to think: I used to think you would make such a pretty corps…"

Murasaki coughed, attempting to wrench her shirt out of his grasp. "I'm not done yet." She whispered. She could feel something stirring in the depth of her spirit, like a monster awakening from the fathomless pit within.

Sanjo's face suddenly changed and he dropped her onto the dusty ground. The barrier had vanished the moment the staff had ruptured the edge of it, Murasaki's stored chakra disrupting the flow the same way one would break a genjutsu.

Her spirit felt alive as it never had before, a fire burning deep inside her stomach, like a million fireflies had taken residence inside of her. It was the same overwhelming feeling she had gotten when she was younger…when she had been in real danger, but why wasn't it overpowering her now?

There was a presence nearby that made her feel wilder, her back arching like a cat's as she advanced on her former teammate. The pain didn't appear to phase her at all outwardly, though it frayed on her nerves and made her want to retreat.

A cloaked ANBU leapt down behind him, ready to engage in combat. Sanjo turned around in shock and surprise. Murasaki took this chance to strike, leaping onto Sanjo's back and twisting his head, snapping his neck. There was a heavy solemness to the fatal cracking sound that seemed to break the unexplainable wildness that had come over Murasaki.

Sanjo collapsed beneath her, blood running out of his mouth as he slumped to his knees, lifeless.

Murasaki fell to her knees behind him, her arms still around his neck as she shook, bursting into tears against her dead comrades back.  
She'd loved him like family…and now he was dead by her hand…

Murasaki let his blood run unobstructed over her hands, his body still warm in her arms.

It had been easier to believe he had died in the conflict…so much easier to believe the village would just sweep his existence under the rug rather than to believe in his betrayal...

She clung to him desperately, as if by injecting her own chakra, her own spirit, she could somehow bring him back to life…

"Oh…Sanjo…what have I done…"

The ANBU knelt beside her, brushing a few bloody strands of hair away from her face to gain her attention.

"Come, Murasaki-sama…" He offered his hand, but Murasaki wouldn't move, Sanjo's blood cooling quickly on her hands. Eventually, the ANBU forcibly pulled her away, lifting her in his arms and handing her the Shakujo staff.

"I don't want to go." She gasped, struggling against him. It was there: her chakra she'd released, contained at his hip…

"let me go Kakashi." She tore at the black gloves that covered his arms as he hauled her back, tightening around her waist as she thrashed against him.

The ANBU's arms were lean and strong beneath the thick, dark wool of his cloak, holding her back even tighter now that she spoke his name. He lifted his porcelain mask and hitae-ate with one gloved hand, grabbing her forcefully by the hair and tilting her head upward, forcing her to look into his Sharingan.

"I…" Her voice faltered as her head dipped against his chest, his heartbeat ringing in her ears like the soft beat of distant taiko drums. He lifted her gently, carrying her bridal-style down the street.

"Murasaki!"

The smell of smoke, the feel of two arms around her, taking her from the ANBU.

"Dad…you're okay…" She muttered, suddenly aware of how much pain she was in, as if the Toad Sage had awoken her from some kind of malignant spell.

"She's almost out of chakra…" The ANBU said with the utmost gentleness.

Murasaki sniffed, wiping her nose, her hand coming away crimson as passersby stared at the unlikely trio, the police swarming Sanjo's body, taping off the end of the street.

"Stop, Murasaki, don't touch it…" Jiraiya muttered, smacking her hand away. "I think you broke it."

XxX

Danzou leaned back in his chair, torn between anger and relief. The former ROOT agent 01967, codenamed Sanjo, had performed exactly as expected.

That's not to say that Danzou wasn't disappointed: it would have been nice to have had the assassination attempt on Fujiwara not fail for once, but on the other hand, 01967 had been on the burn list anyway.

Danzou sighed, leaning back in his chair, his bad leg aching dully. Perhaps for now she would live, perhaps for now he would cease his pursuit, but the moment his plans began to come into fruition, that is when she had to die. It was too much of a risk otherwise; she'd seen and heard far too much.

But he had to admit, her plan had been clever. Her father had trained her to know her place and abilities as a sensor-type.

Danzou sighed, tapping his fingers on his cane impatiently.

It had been several months and still no word from Megumi. Knowing that stuck up brat, she hadn't even given Orochimaru the message. He was growing tired of this: Orochimaru was the only man Danzou would have for such a dangerous job, and currently, there were two fresh Sharingan sitting in refrigeration downstairs with the others.

XxX

* * *

A/N: Picked a really bad place to trail off there... I honestly thought I had uploaded more of this. My bad, I'm so sorry for slowly and painfully updating.

Key:

*Shakujo staff: a staff with a brass/gold decoration at the end which consists of a circular symbol and several rings (depending on the spiritual rank of the carrier, as many as six rings appear. The rings are designed to jingle to make all sentient beings aware of the presence of a priest ). They are carried by Buddhist monks. Miroku from Inu Yasha carries one.

Don't ask why Murasaki carries one. I think it's left over from my 'weaboo' stage. I admit, I was happier ignorant.


	6. A Moment of Imperfect Clarity

～映画物語～

藤原のムラサキ

XxX

Jiraiya sat atop the roof overlooking the gaping hole where he and Murasaki's old apartment had been. The fire had raged throughout the day, finally going out only after it had hit a gas line and blown a gaping hole in the newer section of The Hidden Leaf Village. Luckily, no one save for Murasaki and himself had been injured in the blast.

Now, more than ever, Jiraiya had to think, and think hard about where he and Murasaki were headed in life. The Toad Sage was full of a menagerie of emotions; he was angry, frustrated, and relieved.

He was angry and frustrated mostly because his entire life's work of writing had gone up in flames, and perhaps a little angry at Murasaki for somehow incurring someone's wrath in such a poisonous way. But it wasn't really her fault, was it? And at the end of the day, now, as he watched the sun set over the tree tops, he was just relieved that his daughter was safe.

Murasaki had been so unexpected in his life, that thing that he never knew he'd wanted until he was stuck with her. Ten years before he would have scoffed at the thought of being a father, but in hindsight, he wished he'd have known about her then, because he'd missed out on so much and ultimately had failed to protect her.  
Soft footsteps and the rattle of a Shakujo staff warned him of another person drawing towards him, and he looked back into Kakashi's tired, masked face. Somewhere off in the distance, a dog was barking.

"Seems like she can't go ten feet without dredging up angry demons and hungry ghosts." Kakashi muttered, sitting down beside the Sage and resting the staff on the tile behind him. "Such is the nature of a shamaness."

"You've been at the KIA monument, haven't you?"

Kakashi fell silent, picking a tamarack needle out of his hair. Jiraiya sighed, sitting back on his palms as a soft breeze carried the scent of charred wood in their direction. Kakashi stretched lazily, arching his back and yawning.

"It's been a long day."

Jiraiya grunted in agreement, watching two small songbirds disappear into the darkening forest.

"How long have you been back?"

"Just this morning." Kakashi said quickly. "I saw the smoke rising from the direction of your apartment and figured it had something to do with Murasaki."  
Jiraiya a let out a low chuckle.

"She does seem to attract a lot of trouble, doesn't she?"

Kakashi snorted, shaking his head. "I suppose attracting trouble isn't half as bad as being trouble. She put up a good fight, and wasn't about to just let someone bowl her over, not even me." The jounin unhooked his canteen from his utility belt. "The little brat put some of her chakra in here so she could keep an eye on me last Spring. I let her do it, but still, it was pretty sneaky. I think she occasionally forgets about my Sharingan."

Jiraiya laughed finally, taking the canteen from the boy and inspecting it. "Well, she really doesn't know Sharingan Kakashi…"

A stricken look crossed Kakashi's face and he slumped his shoulders. "I don't suppose I have been a very good friend over the past few years…"

Jiraiya bit his tongue. Murasaki had stated her less than flattering opinion of Kakashi on several different occasions.

"Speaking of little brats and trouble…" Jiraiya said suddenly, breaking the silence and changing the subject.

"Such a heavy question. Can't a guy get some rest around here?" Kakashi muttered dryly, taking the canteen from Jiraiya and pulling his mask down to take a drink.

"No."

Kakashi sighed, finishing his swallow. There was a brief moment of utter silence, before he spoke again.

"Megumi is…difficult to deal with. I have never met someone as remarkably self-centered as she."

This comment earned a snort from Jiraiya, followed by a slight laugh.

"Like it or not, she's just like her father."

"Who isn't technically, well, naturally, her father. Jiraiya-sama…" Kakashi's tone darkened. "What do you know of this genetic engineering that Orochimaru is doing?"

A heavy blackness seemed to fall upon the two as the conversation took a sudden and dark turn in the dying sunlight.

"Orochimaru, is, and has always been, obsessed with immortality and power, living forever, and learning every jutsu known to the shinobi world. He's tried many times and failed to create a perfect human, and he's able to move his spirit from body to body somehow, but those bodies, no matter how perfect, never last him for more than a few months to a year or so."

"I see." Kakashi nodded, taking another swig from his precious canteen. "that explains a lot more now…Megumi is hesitant to enlighten me to her fathers doings, and sometimes I wonder if she even knows herself, but I catch glimpses and snippets here and there…"

"Like?"

"Mass factories full of fetus' in containment chambers, experiments on the human body to the point of no recognition…every step tediously recorded and catalogued, frozen genetics, engineering and injecting the fetus' with hormones and DNA…" Kakashi's skin felt cold and prickly as he shuddered slightly at the thought of all of the mizuko floating in that green slime, the scent of formaldehyde and cleaning solution. The worst part by far were the vivisections; humans, both adults and children cut open, dissected while still drawing breath. All while under minimal to no anesthesia. Those who did not die often passed out from the pain. As a shinobi, it was one thing to kill, it was quite another to dissect while still alive.

"I see…he's picked up his old experiments…"

"Hmm?" Kakashi muttered, not really listening, but trying to take his mind off of what he had seen. The quiet comfort of Konoha and the warmth of the summer air didn't seem to hold any sway over the darkness that he felt after bearing witness to such atrocities.

"Never you mind, boy…you're doing good work…" Jiraiya said, clapping Kakashi on the back hard enough that the teen had to grip the roof tiles slightly to keep from sliding into the debris.

"I don't know how I'm going to get out of this mission alive, though…" Kakashi said darkly. "I don't know what to think of her. She's clearly not stupid, and sometimes I think she's on to me."

"It wouldn't surprise me if she is. She got some of the top marks on her exams, it's just the fieldwork she didn't do well in. Never did like getting her hands dirty... If you think she sees through you, I'm certain she does." Jiraiya said, glancing over at the young man in concern. He was beginning to think that Kakashi had learned all he could from the young woman, and it was time to abort the mission, but there was a nagging feeling that there was something that was still hidden, not by Kakashi, but from him.

"I don't know…how to get you out of this, but I think you will have to leave soon. I have no doubt that if Megumi is on to you, that she will deliver you to her father presently"

"I think she might be after my genetics rather than my Sharingan…I don't know, though. She might just be…" Kakashi fell silent, looking down at the canteen in his hand.

"It's the Sharingan they're after, not your DNA." Jiraiya cautioned firmly. "At this point, it's a judgment call on your part. But the moment you get the feeling that something is amiss, you come running."

"I'm wondering if Megumi has abandoned her father's purpose to pursue her own interests." Kakashi said suddenly as a light, warm updraft picked up, the small, shrill chime of a cast iron furin bell rattling on the roof tiles below.

Jiraiya made an unreadable sound, instinctively reaching for his pocket and letting out a sigh upon realizing his pipe had been destroyed in the blast as well. At the very least he had been able to save the Toad Scroll…

"What are you going to do now?" Kakashi asked, gesturing to the scorched timbers, as if he had used his Sharingan to guess the Sannin's thoughts.

"I don't know. I'm thinking about going abroad again, pick up my writing…" Jiraiya said, gesturing vaguely with his hand.

Kakashi nodded solemnly, gripping the roof tiles beneath his fingertips until his knuckles were white. Jiraiya cast a sidelong glance at the teen, who's foot was twitching ever so slightly. He decided to wait it out, to see if the boy would voice his thoughts.

The purple skyline darkened to a dark shade of blue as the yellow streetlamps simmered into life around them and Kakashi took a deep breath.

"Jiraiya-sama, if you are to leave…what is going to happen to Murasaki?"

Jiraiya sighed, smiling inwardly. "I don't know. I may take her with me, I may leave her here. Why do you ask?"

"Just…" Kakashi knit his brows. "wondering."

XxX

Megumi stared stonily at Orochimaru, her amber eyes wide and her lips pursed together in annoyance. Orochimaru stared coolly back at her, struggling to contain the anger in his stare.

"How long ago…were you given this message?" The Sannin asked, surveying his only living genetic clone with a slight amount of disgust. Megumi's lips formed a tiny purplish ring as her cheeks hollowed.

"A couple months ago." She said haughtily, tossing her ebony locks. "It really doesn't matter anyway, because you're not going to do it."

Orochimaru gripped the arm of the chair he was lounging in, fighting the impulse to backhand the girl. A sudden smile crossed his face, exposing every possible tooth. This perhaps, out of all the things he could have done, visibly disturbed Megumi the most.

"And why do you believe I won't do it?" He asked, leaning back in his chair, his smile widening. "in fact, it might be quite amusing…"

Megumi stared at him, her face a flicker of perfect horror and disgust.

"Don't pretend to be above this. You're as much a hand in this as I am, if not more." He cooed softly, stretching out a hand and winding it in her soft, black hair. "And you're going to be the one who tells Danzou that I've agreed…and deliver Sharingan Kakashi to me."

Megumi's eyes flashed, but she remained silent, rooted defiantly to the spot.

"What are you waiting for, you miserable little sow!" Orochimaru snapped suddenly, as Megumi winced, her hair still entwined in his hand. "make yourself useful and get going!"

XxX

Murasaki glared sullenly at Iruka from behind a butterfly bandage as he plied her with innumerable questions around a mouthful of ramen.

"Man, you must have smoked him! And I thought that bastard was dead…" Iruka spattered, slurping his noodles. Murasaki picked at the hem of her sleeve, chewing her lips slightly as she thought about the fight earlier that day.

"Iruka-kun, I really…I just don't feel comfortable talking about him like this. It's too soon. He was a friend of mine…"

Iruka scoffed, his brown eyes wide over his scarred nose. "Come on. Seriously,. You are the most annoying person. He tried to kill you! Aren't you angry?"

"Of course I am." Murasaki spat bitterly, her eyes narrowed to a pair of sea-grey slits. "But that doesn't change the fact that there was a bond between us. I loved him."

"You loved him?" Iruka said cynically, looking up from his noodle soup.

"Stop it Iruka…I just don't want to talk about it right now." Murasaki snapped, turning back to her soup. Iruka fell oddly silent, turning back to his noodles in one of those rare moments Iruka had when he was annoyingly, unexpectedly mature.

"Sorry…it's just…your life is exciting compared to mine. Your father is so high profile you'll make jounin just because you have to defend yourself all the time. For you it'll be natural, a matter of survival, where as someone like me…"

"You'll be fine." Murasaki said, nudging him in the arm and pasting on a smile. "You're chakra isn't very big, but you know way more stuff about application than I do…"

Iruka maintained silence, a soft breeze rattling a furin bell not far in the distance as people moved up and down the street, they feat adding a rumbling energy to the ramen stand.

"Where are you staying tonight?"

"I don't know. Dad and I haven't discussed it. He's going to meet me later, but he said he had some business to take care of first."

Iruka watched as a noodle slipped from his chopsticks to his bowl, then at Murasaki's crushed right hand, now bound in pristine white bandages.

"So…If you and your dad have no where else to go…I mean, my house is small and not as nice as what you're used to, but it's pretty much empty except for me…"

"We couldn't possibly intrude…" Murasaki replied in perfect politeness, worrying inwardly for Iruka's safety. She was just seconds away from dying today, she couldn't bring that kind of luck on Iruka.

"No, it's all right. It would be nice!"

Murasaki smiled. "We'd love to stay with you Iruka, but…."

Gentle brown eyes widened in hope, a spark of delight shining beneath thick, brown lashes. Murasaki fell silent, turning back to her noodles. There was going to be at least one ANBU outside wherever she went. No doubt they would keep Iruka safe, and she would give her life if it came down to that. He wasn't about to die for his kindness.

There was a soft, musical ringing sound as the noren curtain parted, Iruka and Murasaki both turning to see a tall, slender young man. A chill ran down Murasaki's spine as Kakashi stared back at her, his Konoha forehead protector now covering his Sharingan. In his hand, he held the Shakujo staff that Murasaki had obtained earlier that day, the bitter memories of the fight flooding back.

The ramen shop fell into an awkward silence as the three stared at each other, the oldest teenager casting them all a patronizing look before sitting down beside Murasaki. Out of the corner of her eye, Murasaki could see Iruka's gentle, tanned face had changed slightly into an expression she didn't fully recognize.  
The jounin leaned the staff beside Murasaki's crutches, sitting down and ordering a bowl of ramen.

Murasaki and Iruka exchanged glances before Murasaki made a grab for her crutches. Kakashi grabbed her wrist without even glancing over.

"Umino-san, leave us." Kakashi said sternly. Iruka sat unmoving, his eyes fixed on Kakashi, anger burning behind his soft chocolate irises.

"It's okay, Iruka…" Murasaki said softly, her own cheeks aflame with annoyance.

"I will wait for you outside." The boy spat, rising from his chair and leaving in a huff.

The ramen stand fell silent, only the sound of Ichiraku-san frying noodles cutting through the silence. In spite of the silent, warm summer air, there was a heavy, unreadable electric tension between them.

"Couldn't face me yourself so you sent a shadow clone?" Murasaki asked, picking up her chopsticks defensively. "Dad sent you, didn't he?"

"No, I came on my own. Jiraiya-sama has little to do with this. I just came to make sure you're okay, and to discuss some things with you. After something like this, you don't always realize…"

"I know. Shock." Murasaki interrupted, as Kakashi let go of her hand. "I went through it after the…"

Kakashi's eyebrows knit together in a warning look, his visible eye narrowing slightly and looking around. Murasaki nodded, bowing her head and folding her hands in her lap.

"You may want to see someone about it. It village has resources for that…or maybe…" Kakashi seemed to be thinking, the cogs in his head nearly visible to the young girl. "you may want to go back to the Shrine for a while, just to clear your head until you can function within the village…"

Murasaki wanted to yell at him that he should shut up, that she'd done without him quite nicely, to tell him that he was being egotistical; that he didn't hold so much sway in her life. But the last part would have been a lie.

"Listen, Hatake-san, I understand your concern." She said with a patience that surprised even herself. "And it's not something that I haven't thought of already. However, I have made my decision to become a kunoichi. I've gone too far down this path, and as you know, I cannot turn back…especially not to the Shrine."

"I guess…sometimes I forget that you're not a little kid anymore." Kakashi said suddenly, clearly caught off-guard by her patient words as he scratched the back of his head. "You're not the little shrine maiden that you used to be."

"But you're still the same pretentious little brat." Murasaki said honestly, her voice coming out teasing, though she was quite serious. Kakashi's face dropped slightly, though he deflected it with a laugh.

"Jiraiya-sama says the same thing. Like father like daughter." He said with a sigh, leaning on his elbow as Ichiraku set the ramen bowl before him. Without either party noticing, the angry, tense atmosphere seemed to have vanished into a sad one, which made Kakashi sigh heavily.

"I should go." Murasaki said suddenly, unable to bear it any longer. "Iruka is waiting for me."

"Yeah…I know…but there's something else."

Murasaki paused, her good hand clenched firmly around the padded crossbeam of her crutch.

"What is it?"

There was a prolonged silence, Kakashi visibly hesitating, thinking hard about what he wanted to say.

"I'm not a shadow clone." He said finally, turning back to his ramen.

Murasaki tried not to let her surprise show, simply nodding out of embarrassment and walking out. Once outside, Iruka took the Shakujo staff from her.

"Man, that self-righteous asshole really makes me angry." Iruka seethed through clenched teeth, glancing back at the ramen stand. Murasaki smiled slightly, limping along on her crutches.

"Nah, he's not so bad. At least he tries."

.oOo.

* * *

A/N: How are you guys? Enjoying the summer? Enjoying the winter?

Review! I beg of you! I need love right now, 'cause God knows I'm not getting any on facebook.


	7. Misogi No Oharai

～映画物語～

藤原のムラサキ

The sound of the waterfall roared around Murasaki as she perched irresolutely on the slick rock beneath it, the ice-cold mountain water pounding against the top of her head and saturating her thin yukata.

She blocked the urge to shiver, the dull, cold induced headache drilling at the back of her brain as her chanting voice came out frail and weak over the din of the falling water. The cold was part of why it was done; when the body and mind are free form worldly distraction, the spirit will be one with the Kami.

It had been exactly one week since she had killed Sanjo, one week of nightmares and damning thoughts, of furtive looks from fellow villagers and doubt in the back of her mind. It felt as if she were in the bottom of a dark hole, looking up at the unattainable sky.

The brunette's nose ached dully, as did her ankle and hand, but the pain seemed like a small price to pay for the inner comfort of Misogi Shugo purification. Murasaki's logical mind told her that it was more of a risk to sit under the onslaught of icy water, but her spirit and mind needed cleansing and direction. If she got sick afterwards, it would be a small fee for maintaining her sanity.

The water crashing on the rocks around her had a calming effect on her frayed nerves, the coolness of the mist surrounding her as she took a deep breath, the cold filling her lungs as she prepared for the last lines of the Misogi-no-o-harai:

_ "I will be able to recognize the truth, only after I purify myself of all negativity, impurities, faults and restore myself to what I am meant to be…"_

All that came out of her mouth, however, was a rasping cough, followed by a splutter as she inhaled water, her hands never coming unclasped form one another as she forced herself to plea to the Spirits for clarity.

Extracting herself from the waterfall was the hardest part, the bandages peeling from around her hand and ankles as she made her way down the slick rocks and onto the grassy shore, the weight of the water pulling at her yukata as she sat on the smooth, green knoll beside the pooling stream.

The summer morning was already despairingly hot as the sun beat down unforgivably on Murasaki, who found herself shivering despite the warmth. She reached into her bag, preparing to re-wrap her leg with fresh bandages, but stopped.

Someone was in the trees not far off, someone annoyingly familiar. And by the feel of their chakra, totally oblivious to her presence.

The chunnin smiled to herself, hurrying up with her bandages and rising to her feet. Oh what a lovely bout of revenge this would be…

Without another moment of hesitation, Murasaki disappeared in a puff of smoke, reappearing in the middle of the hokage's office, her soaking wet yukata making a puddle on the wooden floor beneath her. Immediately, the men in the room averted their eyes as Murasaki stood shivering before the Hokage.

"Murasaki-san, what is the meaning of this?"

"Megumi is here." Murasaki said, crossing her arms for warmth as one of the Jounin draped a heavy cloak around here. Her leg was aching from the weight, but this was too important.

"Where is she?" The red-haired woman asked, her ginger-colored eyebrows knitting together.

"A little less than one kilometer south of the Main entrance, by Taki waterfall."

The ginger-haired jounin nodded, waving to a group of three ANBU, who disappeared along with the woman. Muraskai turned, looking back at the hokage, their solemn gaze meeting one another's in a stare down.

"Well done, Murasaki-san. The jounin will bring your things from the waterfall. You are dismissed."

Murasaki bowed with a frown. "Thank You."

As she hobbled out of the office, she found herself secretly wanting to stay and watch Megumi being brought in in disgrace. Murasaki wanted to watch as the Hokage gave the arrogant brat what she deserved, to deal out justice against a traitor.

But orders were orders, and she'd been dismissed…

Murasaki knew that Sarutobi was fully aware of her desire to watch Megumi get knocked down, and she knew that this, more than anything else, was why he had dismissed her.

Without thinking, she put her full weight on her leg, biting her lip as she stepped out into the brilliant heated afternoon sunlight. She clutched the door, letting out a sigh as she gripped the cloak tightly over her still wet yukata. Getting home was now a priority as the muscles in her other leg began to burn from exertion.

She let out a sigh, stopping to rest her ankle, leaning against a wall and rubbing her other leg. The cloak began to slip form her shoulders, but someone caught it, holding it up just before it fell completely.

"Kakashi-san."

"Need help?"

"I should be fine…just slow." Murasaki said, pushing out a grin in hopes that he would go away. On the contrary, he draped the cloak across her shoulders.

"I think in light of who they're bringing in, you and I should get out of here as fast as possible."

"Megumi-ki?" Murasaki couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Murasaki-chan, you've gotten stronger since the academy, no doubt, but so has Megumi, and the only difference between you and her is that she has people at her disposal, you don't. So unless you want to incur her wrath, too, then I would suggest you either hurry up or let me help you."

"I don't care." Murasaki said, growing openly irritated. "And what, really, do you care?" And just what did he mean by 'the only difference?'.

"I just don't want to have to deal with her, and you know what…" He shook his head, glancing over his shoulder. For a brief second, he seemed to be stalling. "I don't know why I care, alright, other than I thought we were friends, and friends help each other out."

Murasaki nearly lost her grip on the cloak in surprise, her entire body flushing with embarrassment and guilt. This entire time he'd thought they were friends, this entire time she'd wanted to be friends with him, but was too proud to act on it for a reason she didn't want to admit to herself; like many other young women in the village, she had a bit of a crush on him. In spite of the nauseating sense of vertigo she got whenever he was around, there was something calming about his prescience.

"Fine, sorry…I've just been under a lot of stress lately." She said, disguising her embarrassment with annoyance.

His visible eye arched up on a smile. It was so obvious he didn't believe her. "Well, then, come on. Put your arm around my shoulders." He reached beneath the cloak and Murasaki drew back, falling against the wall surrounding the Konoha Administrative building.

"Relax, I'm not being a pervert. Trust me." There was something in his tone that made Murasaki sad: trust me indicated that he was in no way interested in her…

_ 'No no no.'_

Murasaki shook her head at her own stupidity and consented, draping her left arm around his shoulders as he fixed his arm around her waist. An electric chill ran down her spine and she looked up at him, a tinge of red gracing her cheeks. He didn't seem to notice as they made their way to the gates just in time to see six jounin come around the corner, Megumi tied and fettered between them. Kakashi paused, drawing them both into the shadows of a structural beam, pulling Murasaki close to his chest to make their presence smaller.

But to no avail; Megumi's head turned in their direction, amber eyes flashing. Murasaki felt a sudden chill of fear, as if caught in a swoon, her injuries aching dully as she felt a sudden weariness consume her.

"Murasaki-chan." Kakashi suddenly shook her and the weariness passed, her head wobbling back and fourth like a rag doll.

"Curse her." Murasaki hissed, recovering and watching the jounin pass. "she can cast genjutsu with her eyes."

"_This isn't fair! it was my turn for revenge!"_

"No, her voice…she was speaking. You were already caught in the illusion by the time she rounded the corner. That is why you need to be careful when it comes to Megumi." He let go of Murasaki, who's head was aching dully, and pulled some cotton from his ears.

"Damn her, damn her to hell! Why weren't the jounin effected by it?" Murasaki swore in a sudden outburst. "She did something! She did something to me!"

"Hush, Murasaki-chan, just because you didn't notice doesn't mean that she did something." Kakashi's voice was stern and scolding, as if speaking to a teriibly stupid child. "Come on, we need to get out of here."

XxX

Megumi smiled inwardly as the jounin marched her down the street. Everything that had transpired, getting caught and hauled in by Konoha…it was all going in accordance to her plan.

She knew where her abilities were; espionage was a strong point of hers. Megumi knew full well she could be manipulative, but instead of being ashamed of it, she prided herself on the fact. Sneaking in, going unnoticed, well, that was impossible for the Snake-princess. She liked attention, she liked to be noticed, and, like it or not, she was a head-turner of uncommon beauty.

When Danzou realized she was here, he would know why. This would also give her a chance to plead her case before the hokage…

Megumi wasn't exactly sure what she'd do when the Hokage granted her re-entrance into the Hidden Leaf Village, but at the very least she'd be gone from her father.  
As long as Megumi kept talking, working her genjutsu with her voice, there would be no trouble. Kononha would be eating out of the palm of her hand…

The teen felt a sense of pride at her own cleverness, but this was all crushed when they entered the grounds for the administrative building.

She spotted Kakashi hiding in the shadows of a nearby tree, it's leaves fluttering in the soft summer breeze, but Kakashi was holding something to his chest. He turned slightly, and Megumi spotted long brown hair fluttering in the breeze and a pair of uncertain sea-grey eyes staring back at her.

Fury consumed her: how could he be cheating on her with that…toad spawn!

No, it was foolish to think he was interested in her beyond his espionage mission. But that didn't mean she wasn't about to give him up.

Summoning her chakra, Megumi opened her mouth, preparing for her Siren-Song jutsu.

Her voice rang out, sweet and strong across the yard, but it didn't seem to have any effect on anyone, not her captors, not Kakashi.

In fact, the lead jounin, a redhead, seemed to pick up the pace, growing visibly irritated.

"One more word, Megumi-no-ko, and I will kill you."

"You can't kill me." Megumi sneered as they rounded the corner to the stairs. "I'm the only tie you have to Orochimaru."

"Don't overestimate yourself." The woman said casually, not slowing her pace even when Megumi stumbled on the stairs. "That ego will get you killed around here."

The doors swung open, and much to Megumi's dismay, she way led down the corridor opposite to the Hokage's office.

"Where are you taking me?" Megumi spattered, the darkness of the Administrative buildings hallway seemingly closing in on her. No one even cast her a second glance, fear taking over her mind.

What were they going to do to her?

xXx

Murasaki and Jiraiya had rented a hotel room until they could find an apartment, much to Iruka's disappointment. It didn't take long for Kakashi to get Murasaki back to the room, where was she able to clean the dirt from her bare feet and change into dry, more modest clothing. She came out of the small bathroom toweling her hair off, causing Kakashi to look up with a smile.

"This brings memories, doesn't it?"

Murasaki sighed, sitting down on the bed opposite to him. "Doesn't it."

There was an intense silence that followed, accompanied by a heavy, awkward feeling.

"I'm curious." He paused, leaning back on his palms, the duvet cover creasing beneath his gloved fingers. "How were you able to get from the waterfall to the Administrative Building without trouble, but from the Administrative Building to here was a struggle?"

Murasaki sighed, letting her hair fall as she laid the towel on the bed. There was something about his hands, the way he was holding them, putting his weight on them…

"It's something I learned at the temple…well, I wasn't taught it, but I…" She sighed, tearing his eyes away form his hands. "Don't think ill of me, but it's something I developed myself, using the principal that chakra is connected to spiritual energy: I taught myself to open the gates individually in accordance to my needs. It's not perfect, yet, but it's something the monks use for meditation."

"So you're basically manipulating your soul?"

Murasaki thought for a moment. "Not the soul itself but the chakra gates that anchor it to the different physical and mental areas."

Kakashi looked skeptical, rising slowly and beginning to pace silently. "That sounds extremely dangerous. It sound's like Gai's 'Hachimon' technique, but more localized."

"Gai's technique is rough, and deals only with chakra flow, not spiritual energy, furthermore, I'm not opening all of the gates at once, which is what makes Hachimon so dangerous." Murasaki said, her tone defensive. Kakashi nodded thoughtfully, his face unreadable silhouetted against the wide, glass doors that overlooked the town behind him.

"This sounds…it seems simple, yet complicated…"

"It takes ample knowledge of chakra in direct correlation with Buddhism and Shinto…" Murasaki sighed, running her fingers through the ends of her chocolate brown hair. "For example, by opening my Sacral chakra, I can temporarily release connection with physical pain, therefore endure torture longer than I normally would. That's how I got through the Iwagakure incident two years ago."

Kakashi went rigid, turning his heel. It wasn't an order to not talk about it, it just wasn't something anyone really brought up.

"It sounds risky, and complicated, but that still doesn't answer my question."

Murasaki stared at him blankly. She had enjoyed where the conversation was going, or at least, she had been looking forward to a halfway competent discussion on chakra application.

"I released my Root chakra for a moment. I don't like to use that one very much, because it can be unpredictable at times because it is the 'Root', what ties one to the physical dimension. If I left it open for too long, or opened it too wide, I would have died…or vanished completely."

Kakashi seemed to have taken this very seriously, taking off his forehead protector and rubbing his closed eye.

"Then don't do it." He said, opening his regular eye and looking at her. His expression was so grave, has face looking so suddenly old beyond his years as he cast her a look that it made Murasaki sit up a little straighter. The room was silent, only the chirping of the birds outside and the distant din of people going about their lives outside, the sunlight crawling slowly across the bedroom floor as large, light grey clouds passed.

There would be a storm tonight. Nothing massive, just a summer storm…

"Kakashi, I can't just stop using it." Murasaki said quietly, standing up and closing the sliding glass door. "This entire technique is the only thing I have that sets me apart from the rest of the village. It's the only thing that I have that's going to get me anywhere. In case you haven't noticed, but I'm not good at anything else."

"Are you really that concerned with rising in the ranks?" Kakashi asked quietly, not even looking up. Murasaki crossed her arms, staring out at the gathering storm with knit eyebrows.

"I guess I am. I'm not going to lie and say it's for the better of the Village. I have my own selfish motivation. I don't want to be a disappointment to dad. Or to you. Success here is shown by rank. If I rise in the ranks, I won't be a disappointment."

"I've never been able to understand ambitious women. It's disgraceful, really. Why can't you just marry into an auspicious family." Kakashi muttered, obviously masking his seriousness with a teasing tone. "A Hyuuga or an Uchiha."

Murasaki shook her head in disgust. "The Fujiwara family is auspicious enough."

"Not auspicious enough for your line of work. The Fujiwara's are rulers and courtiers, not warriors and shinobi. Besides, aren't you descended from a lesser line?" Kakashi laughed, clearly uncomfortable.

Murasaki muttered darkly to herself, casing him a spiteful look as the hotel room door slid open to reveal Jiraiya, looking more tired than usual.

"Hey, it's you two." He muttered, tossing his scroll in the corner and sitting down on the bed with a groan. "The ANBU are looking all over for you, Hatake-san."

"Why?"

"Ah, something about that Megumi."

Kakashi and Murasaki both exchanged glances before the jounin left without a word.

XxX

Kakashi swung the door to his apartment open, slamming it off of the white wall before it bounced back and shut behind him. Usually, he found conversing with Murasaki on most levels relaxing, but the rude awakening to current events was an unwelcome stress. It seemed like every time he got the opportunity to speak to her, there was some kind of interruption, distraction, or tragedy…

He stopped, sitting down in front of the cat-masked ANBU sitting silently beside the low-slung table.

"Tenzou."

"Kakashi, where have you been?"

Kakashi put his shuriken holster on the table. "I was lost on the road of life" He sighed, repeating the old proverb, his tone ominous.

Tenzou's dark eyes flashed behind the mask, his body language growing irritated, though his voice refused to betray him.

"Megumi is in interrogation. She said you'd bail her out. Is this true?"

"Yeah."

xXx

* * *

A/N: I meant to upload this earlier, but I ran out of time.

I'm getting really burnt-out on all of my writing :(

_1)The phrase: "I will be able to recognize the truth, only after I purify myself of all negativity, impurities, faults and restore myself to what I am meant to be…" is a part of the actual (translated) chant used in a Shinto water-purification cerimony._

_2)Megumi-no-ko is a slang term for 'daughter of delight' or more precisely 'child of delight', which is a rather poetic but wonderfully blatant term for a prostitute._

_3)Ending someones name with '-ki' is a term used when trying to make someone sound more demonic or impure. (Note to fangrils thinking about using it for their characters: it is HARDLY a compliment and should NEVER be used. It's not cool at all in Japan, and Murasaki was being a BITCH when she used it). It is a rather dated term, but since Murasaki seems to be caught somewhere in the pre-WWII and possibly even pre-Meiji era, it seemed more suitable._

_4) Murasaki's techniques are based off of Shingon Buddhist concepts of the chakra gates, like most techniques in Naruto, however, I combined a small degree of Chinese concepts as well a various Japanese ideals of a 'shamaness' or, crudely translated, a 'shine maiden'. I also borrowed elements form the Krusnik infected Methusalah from 'Trinity Blood'. A priestess, while primarily found in Shinto, would have ample arcane knowledge, hence her application, while a Buddhist nun, which Murasaki served as as a child, would have keen knowledge of the gates and how to open them. _

_5) 'Lost on the road of life' seems to be part of a longer 'kotozawa' (Japanese proverb), but I can't find any sources. Nonetheless, my Japanese professor really liked it when I used it to explain why I hadn't gotten my homework done.  
_


	8. Stolen Shinobi

～映画物語～

藤原のムラサキ

Megumi rapped her fingers sharply on the table, staring haughtily at the interrogator. Though he was only a year or two older than her, his scarred and pockmarked face looked far older. He was repulsive, but if she played her cards right, she could get him to do what she wanted. She'd gotten more from less.

She shifted, a slow smile crossing her face as she tilted her head endearingly.

"I'm sorry…I just wanted so badly to come back to the village! My father does such terrible things, I just want to stop him!"

Ibiki stared stonily back at her, his dark eyes showing not outward emotion. Megumi pouted, her eyes narrowing dangerously as her shapely eyebrows threatened to meet in the middle.

He must be gay.

There was a tentative knock on the door and Ibiki grunted, breaking his hardened stare and wrenching the door open. Megumi tried to see past him, out of sheer curiosity.

Much to her enjoyment, Kakashi strode in, followed by several ANBU.

"I'm here to pick you up, Megumi." he said flatly, clearly not terribly overjoyed. Megumi smirked inwardly, but played it cool on the outside: she was going to make him pay.

XxX

Sarutobi's office was as silent as a graveyard, only the soft sound of the chirping birds permeating the silent room.

The Third looked at each person in turn, his heart felt heavy as he looked at his former rival for the rank of Hokage. Danzou looked soberly back at him, his once proud jaw set in an almost threatening manner. Sarutobi wondered inwardly if Danzou had never quite forgiven him for being made Hokage.

Koharu and Homura seemed oddly cool and hesitant, and the young Uchiha that stood between them was silent, his perfect, aquiline features not even showing a flicker of the fear and sorrow Sarutobi was certain tugged at the boy's heart.

"Itachi-san…"

"Hokage-sama, I have made up my mind. My loyalty to the Village outweighs my loyalty to my family, and I cannot stand to let them continue."

Danzou looked at the boy, a slight, hungry smile curling his features.

"Such innocent sacrifice…"

"Silence." Sarutobi said sternly. "The matter of the Uchiha clan is not to be taken lightly…Sanjou's recent attack on Fujiwara-chan is but one of the tumbling rocks that will lead to a landslide. We must stop this from shattering the peace…"

"I'll do whatever it takes." The young ANBU agent said resolutely, his eyes flashing with terrible confidence in the act of betrayal he was about to carry out.

Sarutobi sat back, nodding silently. "You understand that you must leave the village after this is done."

Itachi nodded, bowing slightly. "Yes, Hokage-sama…I have began making plans to that. There is an organization that goes by the name of 'Akatsuki'. I believe this would be the perfect veil for our plans."

"I see." Sarutobi said quietly, glancing around the room. Danzou seemed as cool as any other day, which stood out on start contrast with Koharu and Homura, who looked nervous.

It was this that led Sarutobi to believe that it Danzou was up to something, something above and beyond the games he was already playing.

XxX

Murasaki heaved a heavy sigh of frustration, tapping her fingers impatiently against the hard cover of her book.

The brunet was growing frustrated as her fifteenth birthday drew nigh. It had been three months since she had been put on a field mission, it had been three months since she had seen hide or hair of Kakashi, and three since she had had the run in with Sanjou.

And Two and a half since Danzou went on leave.

Everyone's apparent absence scared her: every night she went out to the memorial stone and checked for names, checked her apartment for any sign of Jiraiya's return, and checked her back for any sign of Danzou.

The butterflies that had dominated the fields of late Spring had now been replaced by the drifting leaves of early Fall, along with a heavy, morbid feeling, like watching a loved one die of illness.

It only added to Murasaki's melancholic despondency to sit beside the memorial stone in the chilly autumn air, watching the leaves falling one by one. It had been Kakashi's 18th birthday a few days ago, and still no trace of his return to the village…

Her father was gone, off on a walkabout somewhere to work on writing his book. He barely had a chance to speak to her before he left. It reminded her that she was growing up, growing older, that that day would come that he would no longer be there, whether she needed him or not.

Nothing could be more terrifying to a shinobi family, and there was nothing they were more emotionally prepared for, but Murasaki hadn't initially been raised in a shinobi household, and the thought of him not returning was disorienting and terrifying.

It wasn't like she hadn't had that thought every day since she got here, but not it seemed like a far more tangible thought than ever before.

Murasaki stood up from the cenotaph, stretching her back as she shouldered her book bag, setting off towards her empty, silent apartment.

After the fire, the responsibility had fallen on her to locate a new home, as Jiraiya had bailed on her shortly after Kakashi had been called away.

For someone as young as she, it seemed like a heavy task, but she shouldered it with as much grace as she could muster, which evidently, was not much in her eyes. But after a short search, she found one that would suffice for her purposes.

She changed quickly into clothing more suitable for work, knocking the dead leaves off of her shoes before setting off down the street.

The air was heavy, promising a small storm later that night as the clouds dipped towards the buildings, growing darker as each moment passed.

She was lucky to make it inside before a sudden, heavy downpour broke the sky's over Konoha.

Murasaki sighed, closing the heavy door to the cool, damp air and signing in to work the evening shift.

XxX

Danzou sat opposite to Orochimaru, a sly smile on the faces of both men.

"You say you have Sharingan Kakashi in your grasp?" Danzou asked as .?docid=16014817 swirled his drink smugly, setting the caustic medication down with a wide, toothy smile.

"Indeed, That brat child came in handy after all. She was able to lure him into my clutches without much difficulty. Right now she's preparing him for extracting the eye…"

"And as promised, I'll deliver Uchiha Itachi into your hands in a years time…" Danzou said, sitting back in his chair, his right arm covered in bandages from the painful surgery that Orochimaru's surgeon had performed earlier, under the watchful eye of their lord and master.

"Now you know that Kakashi is a rarity, that oftentimes non-Uchiha reject the Sharingan." Orochimaru purred, fingering his cup delicately. Danzou enjoyed the slenderness of the woman who's body Orochimaru had taken, the elegance of her white hands. Her face had been perfect, carved out of porcelain like a Noh mask, with small, perfectly symmetrical black eyes and a carefully sculpted Cupids bow that helped form perfect, rose-pink lips.

The finest women, whores and courtiers alike, would have envied such loveliness. It seemed almost a shame for Orochimaru to not use her for his eugenics projects.

Almost.

But it was also undeniably perfect for Orochimaru; such decadence, such perfection was not spared for his obsession. He always had to have the absolute best, he had to be the absolute best.

And such had been the case for his spawn, when she whined and wept before her interrogators, and demanded diplomatic immunity, when that gullible pawn, Hatake, had come to her rescue…

Danzou considered the man before him carefully. Orochimaru no doubt had all the charm and the essence of a snake, and Danzou didn't trust him at all. Orochimaru seemed to sense this, but was undaunted by it, simply smiling wider.

"I get the feeling you don't quite trust me." Orochimaru purred, the faintest tinge of yellow flashing beneath the thick, dark lashes.

"Would I be a good shinobi if I did?"

Orochimaru laughed his agreement, taking a sip of his drink and licking his lips with his long tongue. "The Second was a fool not to make you Hokage…"

Danzou stared at Orochimaru blankly, sensing the slight hint of mockery beneath the snake-lord's sweet tone. He pretended not to hear it, simply raising his own drink in agreement.

XxX

Jiraiya leaned back into the shadows of the small teahouse on the border of Amegakure, his skin prickling with an electric fear.

He didn't like being that close to the border of a closed country, and adding to his unease was the absence of his informant on Orrochimaru.

Kakashi was missing.

Jiraiya frowned, checking his genjutsu to make sure the façade hadn't faltered in his frustration. Just five more minutes and he would leave: Kakashi was famous for being late, but not like this, and rarely with Jiraiya.

The owner of the teahouse's teenage daughter came by and asked if he needed anything else, making Jiraiya nearly jump out of his skin, but he recovered by standing up and placing his money on the table and leaving without a word.

The toads he had employed to keep an eye out down the road had nothing to report; no Kakashi anywhere.

Jiraiya paused beneath the torii of a small shrine, barely escaping the large droplets of water that threatened to fall from the great red beam overhead.

Taking out his ink and pen he wrote down a brief code on paper, sealing it inside a scroll and feeding it to one of his toads.

He had to organize a rescue mission, the question was, would anyone in Konoha come in time?

XxX

xXx

* * *

A/N: kind of excited to write the next part :)


	9. Hope

～映画物語～

藤原のムラサキ

XxX

Murasaki slammed the mission log books down on the desk in front of her, the cloud-shrouded moonlight fighting for dominance against the incandescent bulbs that burned in the cheap fixtures of the missions room. The village was oddly quiet on the eve of the bi-annual chunnin exams, but most of the chunnin were up late preparing for giving the first exam.

Murasaki's heart had festered with worry for Kakashi and Jiraiya, poisoning her attitude towards her overall work. For some reason, this had changed her personality greatly. She didn't feel like laughing the way she had before, she simply set about her tasks with mindless monotony. It was as if life had lost all meaning and beauty.

She slid the books over to her coworker, a slender young man with a wide mouth and shoulder length white-blond hair swept back into a low ponytail.

"Kyuuketsuki, these are the last three months in mission reports, I need you to double check the number of gennin missions and the run times per team. Sarutobi-sama is going to make a decision based off of statistics this year, rather than ability…"

"Isn't it always like that?" Kyuuketsuki muttered, wrenching the top book open with his unnaturally long, nimble fingers. "It's all about stats, not ability or bravery…" he sighed, his pointed teeth shining like pearls from between his rose pink lips. Murasaki had often wondered about him, and there was a whispered rumor, but no one dared say anything, for those who did often disappeared.

Murasaki made a sound of acknowledgement before she vanished again, returning to the room where the records were kept.

A week before, Konoha had suffered from an earthquake that was strong enough to topple a few of the older buildings, and many of the mission logs that had been scattered to the four winds before were was far worse off now.

Sarutobi had told her, almost dismissively, to go organize the records and work with Kuuketsuki in developing a more effective filing system. She wasn't about to complain. It was a mission, it paid the rent, and Kuuketsuki was enjoyable to work with.

She had long ago lost the foolish pride to be put on an 'important mission'.

Murasaki knelt on the floor beneath the buzzing light bulb, the loose papers forming a sort of fortress around her as she sorted them chronologically.

Some of the pieces were so old, she was almost afraid to touch them or the fibrous rice paper would crumble beneath her fingertips. It made her job more difficult, and she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she should be wearing gloves.

A sudden, uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, working its way up to form a lump in her throat as she caught sight of the Hatake name, going back at least four generations of high-ranking shinobi missions. His family was one of the most auspicious in the village, on the same level as the Uchiha or the Hyuuga, even the Aburame…

Murasaki ignored her ailment, crouching silently in the cupboard, shuffling through papers as she went. A few moment later, she could have sworn the lump moved, and she felt herself get sick instantly.

Rising to her feet, she sprinted down the hall to the nearest water closet, but stopped just a few feet shy, doubling over and vomiting all over the floor.

Much to her shock and disgust, a small orange and green toad tumbled out of her mouth onto the floor with the bile.

The brunet fought off a swoon, clutching the wall for support and staring down at the little toad in shock and dismay. When had she? There was no possible way…that toad was one of the poisonous kinds…wasn't it?

The toad blinked up at her in just as much shock, as much shock as a toad can express, and spoke to her quite frankly:

"It's safe to assume you are Murasaki-hime?"

"Y-yes…?" Murasaki spluttered, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, her head spinning.

"I have a message from Jiraiya-sama." The toad proceeded to vomit a startlingly large scroll. Torn between revulsion and confusion, Murasaki took the scroll, wiping the slime off of it with her jacket and unrolling it as the toad vanished without another word.

Within seconds, she'd decoded her father's slovenly handwriting, nearly dropping the scroll in surprise;

_"Orochimaru,_

_Kakashi in trouble_

_Send help immediately."_

Murasaki stood, nearly slipping on the pool of bile as she ran straight for the hokage's office. She was stopped by twin ANBU before she could burst in, but upon showing them the scroll, she was ushered quickly inside.

"Hokage-sama!" Murasaki bowed quickly, presenting him with the scroll. "This just came from my father. It's an emergency."

"You read it then?" Sarutobi said, taking his pipe form his mouth and taking the scroll from here.

"Yes sir, I wasn't certain what else to do with it." Murasaki said, still caught in a bow.

"Very good. Go back to what you were doing." Sarutobi said, turning his chair towards his desk. Murasaki stood up in surprise.

"Hokage-sama…?"

He looked up at her. "Is there something else, Murasaki-san?"

Murasaki shook her head. "No…sorry."

She bowed again, leaving, her heart racing. She had very nearly asked for the rest of the night off, but it was clear by now he wouldn't have allowed it.

Silently she returned to the mission room, Kuuketsuki sitting silently with his back to the door, sorting the paperwork.

"Back so soon?" He asked, not loking up from the papers.

"Kuuketsuki…there's a huge problem…I need to go home."

"Have you cleared it with the Hokage?"

"No…" Murasaki said softly, taking a step back, her fingers curling around the doorjamb.

"Someone you love is in trouble, aren't they?"

And there it was: that terrifying power of perception that belonged to Kuuketsuki, as if he could read minds. He rose from the spot, turning with a close-lipped smile, his pale purple eyes flashing as he turned.

"Give me your hand." He said quietly. Murasaki crossed the room, awkwardly holding up her left hand. He took her right hand, slicing the tip of her finger with his kunai.

"Now you've been injured." he ran his finger through the collecting blood, sucking on the tip of his finger. "You can go home."

XxX

Kakashi had known something was amiss when he'd left Konoha with Megumi: she was as slippery and conniving as her father, but far more transparent. He hadn't been entirely unprepared when he left: he'd asked the Hokage for permission to organize backup, sent out teams of ANBU Black-ops to trail them: but Megumi had been prepared.

There had been a huge fight; Megumi's troops had completely obliterated his.

He had underestimated her, it was that simple: the entire time she had been playing coy, playing dumb with him. She was lethal, her sheer tactical prowess alone enough to take out an entire subunit of ANBU.

And now he sat in a windowless cell, drained of chakra to the point where he couldn't use his sharingan.

To add insult to injury, Megumi had added Chakra-draining sutra's to the cell door. Strangely, she hadn't bound his hands or feet, but the cell was small enough that he couldn't get far enough away from the door to get any more chakra.

This terrified him. It was difficult to determine his fate in a situation like this: obviously Megumi needed him alive, but what for? Was it one of her own twisted deigns, or one of her fathers?

Kakashi grunted, one of his broken ribs aching dully. He was in rough shape. Megumi hadn't done this herself, no, she was a mastermind, not a fighter…

Her men had been especially rough, Megumi's eyes filled with glee as they beat him, even after his defeat.

But an escape was out of the question at this point. Even if he were physically well enough to stage an escape, the lack of chakra and the habitual use of it…he would be dead before he even got out of the building. Gai had been smart to learn taijutsu; Kakahsi's reliance on his own chakra was damning…

The stale air inside the room was as stifling as the damp, heavy darkness, and the only thing Kakashi could do was sit back and wait for the heavy steel door to swing open, and for someone to proscribe him his fate, and hope that by then he would be well enough to at least die fighting.

So this was where it would end? It didn't seem right, even though as an ANBU it wasn't appropriate to make future plans, to even think about the future could have been treason.

But as he sat there in the darkness, he couldn't help but think of that moment in Konoha, beneath the tree with Murasaki. Her hair had been damp, brown gossamer strands clinging to her fair skin, her eyes endless and complex, untainted and pure, and he had held her.

He had held her unlike any man had held her before. He knew by the way she'd composed herself; like if she allowed him further, she would shatter like glass.

To Kakashi, she was maddening and calming all at once, like a violent rainstorm after a long, hot day, with all of the beauty and power, but none of the destruction.

He heaved a sigh, shaking his head. No, never again would he look at her, never again would he come to her rescue or carry her away from harm. All he had ever wanted to do was to protect her, and here in death all he could do was sit in silent despair.

XxX

Jiraiya hid beneath the shadows of his wide-brimmed hat, his disguise secure. No confirmation had come form Konoha, but he doubted they would waste time with such a thing, especially when it might compromise more than one shinobi…

The rain poured all around him, but Jiriaya never moved: they should be here if they're coming.

Finally, two figures appeared on the road, running full tilt, white Konoha issue cloaks billowing behind them: this wasn't right…

Konoha always sent out three man squadrons…always.

Murasaki and Gai were running full tilt, open-toed shoes splashing carelessly in the puddles that had gathered on the road.

Murasaki's hair was soaked despite the hood that covered her head, but she looked like she was ready for battle, her jaw firmly set, and Gai looked no less ready than she, his own face full of stubborn determination. Jiraiya stepped out onto the road, standing in the middle so they couldn't pass.

"What are shinobi from Konoha doing out this close to Amegakure?"

Murasaki froze, kunai drawn. Jiraiya was impressed: he hadn't even seen her reach for one. Was she really getting that fast?

"Out of my way!"

"Not so fast!" He grabbed her arm as she sidestepped him. Her other hand came up, slashing his cheek as Gai grabbed his arms from behind, rendering Jiraiya nearly immobile.

"Touch me again and I'll make the other side match." Murasaki hissed.

"It's me, your father!" Jiraiya hissed, dropping his disguise for a moment. For a second, Jiraiya was sure she didn't believe him, but she suddenly bowed her head, bending her waist slightly as Gai bowed, uttering a deep, informal apology.

"Sorry, dad…"

"What are you doing out." He hissed, pulling her beneath the eave of a nearby building. "Why aren't you two in disguise? You know it's dangerous out here on the edges of civilization. A few more meters and they would've executed you on the spot!"

"Papa, the Hokage won't send backup…We took the days off we never used to come out here. We are your backup."

"Go home now. This is way over your head."

"No. You left, and I had to make decisions on my own. Now I am making the decision to back you up, not as your daughter, but as a kunoichi of Konoha. Hatake-san is in trouble, and we can't waste time arguing." Murasaki said, lifting her head defiantly.

"I am your father." Jiraiya snarled, untying his hat and putting it on her head. "I am not letting either of you come with me, shinobi of Konoha or otherwise. You need to learn to think with your head and not your heart."

"It's not like that." Murasaki said bluntly as he tied the bow over her chin, looping it around one large, callused finger. "Dad, we are the only people coming. This is your backup; take it or leave it. Konoha isn't going to help you right now."

Jiraiya jerked back, shocked at her sudden, blunt manner of speaking. "When did you grow a pair?"

Murasaki's grey eyes narrowed as she raised her kunai, still stained red with his blood. "Do you want our help on not?"

Jiraiya made a grunt of dissent, but shook his head. "Fine, but if I tell you two to back out and go home, you go home, you hear me?" Jiriaya rounded on Gai, who didn't even flinch beneath his drenched bowl cut. "And you protect her at all costs."

"Yes, sir!"

Murasaki's lips curved up into a mischievous, almost alluring smile.

"You two had better do as I say." Jiraiya hissed, casting his spawn a worried look.

XxX

* * *

A/n: What! I'm alive, I just haven't been able to write as often as I would like...


	10. The Abduction of Murasaki

Out here at the edge of civilization, where the Land of Fire crashed against the boarders of the Land of Lightening, at the end of humanity, of all worldly warmth and comfort, where the rain fell almost constantly in seemingly endless torrents, Murasaki's mind was numb.

It was as if she was a radio that had long since passed out of range and there was nothing to listen to but the dull hum of white nose.

The rain had soaked through her clothing many hours ago, but it didn't matter, or it didn't feel like it mattered. What had began with the sickly enthusiasm of youth and love had long since grown somber and desperate.

Jiraiya and Gai picked their way along a slimy path that lead precariously along the outermost rim of a deep crevasse, an raging, engorged river crashing below, threatening to swallow them up as it called out to them with infinite voices.

If there was one thing Murasaki could even begin to take note of, it was that this place was anything but silent. The would itself here was made out of a thousand voices, a cacophony of chaotic screams and chirps and roars as they were, some literal but even more not.

"Do you feel anything?" Her father's voice drifted back to her, strange and alien over the stridency of their surroundings. It took a moment for Murasaki to process, finally shaking her head. She was numb. She felt nothing.

Jiraiya's face masked worry and disappointment behind lines of concentration. At some point, Gai's sandal slipped through the mud. Jiraiya had only a moment to catch him as the taijutsu user nearly plummeted into the rocks below.

Murasaki waited with baited breath, stepping carefully around the unstable ground and grasping nearby roots for support.

But Gai and Murasaki knew they had bitten off more than they could chew, but there was method to their madness.

Even if the Hokage sent ANBU after them, the ANBU would be bound by duty to bring down a rogue ninja like Orochimaru.

It was a high hope, one born of the utmost teenage ego, but it was the only hope they had. Still, two chunnin were far better than no backup at all, theoretically.

If I was true or not remained to be seen, but based solely off of Jiraya's displeasure, he wasn't any more welcoming of the backup any more than one would have welcomed genital warts or a particularly unpleasant relative.

But, he hadn't sent the two home, which contradicted the assumption; perhaps the two were good for something after all.

It was at this point in Murasaki's thought process that she thought she may have felt something familiar. Something that would, in any other situation, been odd. But it made perfect sense to her.

It was her own chakra. It was faint, small, the tiniest of tiny pieces, but it was a sign. A sign that Kakashi was there, a sign that, by some terrific miracle he was alive.

If it is possible to lose ones voice among a plethora of other noises, Murasaki did so, nearly losing her balance as she struggled to announce her discovery over the roar of the gushing water in the ravine below.

Jiraiya took it as a good sign and welcome news, though it was easy to tell he had already assumed their proximity to Orochimaru's lair earlier.

The ground here was beginning to level out, trees growing high on either side of them with such density it nearly blocked out all of the watery, grey light. There was some respite from the torrential rain, for here among the thick vegetation, it only dripped slowly from leaf to leaf.

"You two, stay here, and be quiet." Jiraiya said, giving them a warning glance. Murasaki's heart leapt into her chest as Jiraiya bade she and Gai to duck into the relative safety of the twisted roots of some sort of sycamore.

Somewhere beneath them there was this energy, this slow, dull, aching buzz that was the source of the white noise inside Murasaki's head. She didn't want to say anything, but it made her worried. Gai was blissfully oblivious, his sculpted eyebrows arching over his dark, doglike eyes in concentration.

All of their chakras felt like they were flickering, smoldering faintly when normally they would have burned brightly.

"They put down chakra barriers." Murasaki whispered lowly to Gai. "they're somewhere under ground, I think. It's messing with me something fierce."

Gai nodded, obviously not really heeding her words as he kept look out. Murasaki wrung out his cloak, then hers, replacing the thick wool garment once it had been momentarily relieved of the heavy saturation.

"I hate this." She muttered, sitting back against the tree, feeling oddly sleepy due to the chill that had set in. Gai was shivering beneath the green spandex suit he wore, though he was trying to hide it.

Murasaki moved closer to him, the rain dripping slowly down from the large, bright green leaves of some climbing shrub that wound around the base of the tree.

"I hate sitting back and doing nothing white Jiraiya-sama does all the work." Gai said quietly, his face never losing that intense look.

Murasaki could only nod in agreement, suppressing a yawn as she rested her cheek against the rough scales of the root. In her time as a kunoichi, she had somehow mastered the art of sleeping sitting upright. She'd meant to break that habit many, many times, but it never seemed to work.

More than once, she woke to Gai shaking her gently, but somehow, the sycamore made a better rest than any bed she'd ever had the distinct pleasure of sleeping in.

She didn't dream at all, she only fell slowly, softly through a soft blackness. There was no fear, nothing, just falling endlessly as one might fall against the sheets of a bed.

There was a vague sense of danger, but it didn't really feel like anything to worry about. Gai was there. He would take care of it. He'd let her know.

Then suddenly, softly drifting through her sense like the faintest, most desperate prayer was a voice. It was soft and strong all together, sinful and full of lust.

And then came the pain.

Murasaki awoke to a light that burned brighter than what they were used to, her eyes crusty and filled with sleep.

It was cold, wherever she was, cold and bright, and she couldn't move. She willed her stomach to contract, to sit up, if nothing more that to raise her head and look around the room.

But her body blatantly defied her.

She could still _feel_, though, she wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

As she lay there, all of the feeling in her body slowly came back to her tenfold.

There was a needle in her arm, an I.V. bag overhead. Her clothing had been minimized to simply her undergarments. She wanted to get up, to find her clothing, to find where she was and go home.

The needle felt like a sword had been shoved through her arm, and there were chakra-suppressing sutras stuck to her arms and legs, the adhesive backing pulling as the fine hairs on her skin.

Had the hypothermia been that bad? Were Jiraiya and Gai and Kakashi okay?

No, this was no Konoha hospital. As the ceiling came into focus, it was clear she was underground.

Murasaki tried to force herself to remain calm. There were measures to take in situations like this, but she wasn't sure she was quite ready to take them.

The sound of footsteps coming closer filler the room. It may have been only a soft patter, but to Murasaki, it sounded like the roar of thunder.

"Oh, you're awake?"

The man's voice was startlingly amicable, his face mildly curious as he came into view. He was in his mid to late forties, with dark hair that was graying on the sides and chiseled features. His round spectacles rode tediously on the end of his nose as he looked down at her with sky-blue eyes.

Murasaki opened her mouth to reply, only a soft moan coming out.

"You've been temporarily paralyzed. We need you for an experiment, so we can risk you running off." There was a sick degree of cheerfulness in his voice when he brought up the experiment, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

Murasaki refrained from attempting more speech, knowing she'd only embarrass herself more. This wasn't a good situation, and the monitor on her left told her that her heatrate was rising.

The doctor patted her arm in a supercilious manner, muttering something about not having to worry.

"It would be over soon enough." He said.

The doctor drifted out of her field of vision again, the sounds of medical equipment rattling around in her head.

The door opened again, Murasaki cringing inwardly. A headache had started to bloom in her brain. She just wanted to go back to sleep.

The footsteps were soft, slow, accompanied by a slithering sound, like when one attempts to walk in formal karaginu-mo. It was the exact sound of silk on concrete

Murasaki felt her blood pressure rise at the figure grew near, it's pale flesh wrapped loosely in luxuriant silk, purplish black hair falling over the mans exposed, bony shoulder. He was in a different body than she had seen before, but there was no mistaking who it was.

"Well, if it isn't the little miko." Orochimaru purred, stroking her hair gently and leering down at her. He turned away, addressing the doctor.

"What are the results of the test?"

"They haven't come back yet, Orochimaru-sama."

Orochimaru's face curved down into a frown.

"A simple blood test? What is taking so long, Kangosotsu-san?"

"We had a difficult time drawing blood, and the tissue samples were nearly impossible."

Orochimaru made a disgruntled sound, turning back to Murasaki, his yellow eyes boring holes into hers. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes, but her body seemed to be stuck on auto-pilot.

Cold fingers ran up her arm, over the scars and muscles and bumps, finally coming to rest on her clavicle. The smile that crossed his deathly pale lips was even colder than those fingers; it was predatory and sinister to every degree imaginable.

"Little Murasaki. Oh, little, unassuming Murasaki." He cooed. "I'm shocked you passed the exams. You can't even save your comrades."

It took a moment for that thought to sink into her buzzing brain and then it hit her like a ton of bricks. She felt her eyebrows twitch, pouring all of her energy and focus into those muscles.

Orochimaru raised an eyebrow, his smile growing wider. His fingers closed around her chin, sinding a chill of fear down her body as she forced her entire face into a look of displeasure.

"You're a tough little otamajakushi, aren't you? You know, it takes less muscles to smile…"

There was a noise, a beep from the machine that the doctor must have been fussing with. Orochimaru relinquished his frigid grip and turned his attention.

"Orochimaru-sama…"

While the men's attention was diverted, Murasaki kept pushing her limits, pushing her chakra. It was no longer about the expression on her face, it was about flexing the muscles underneath the sutras. She had to slowly work away the adhesive.

XxX

The doctor liked to babble. Weather he was bored, or lonely, or like to the sound of his own voice wasn't clear.

He talked after Orochimaru left in a fluster after the initial test was inconclusive, he babbled when he cut a little chunk of flesh out of Murasaki's thigh, he babbled as he drew blood and put it in the centrifuge.

"Normally, Orochimaru would have me put the prisoners in a holding cell." The doctor said, tapping the table absently. "but I prefer the company."

Murasaki wasn't listening fully, her mind focused on the last of the brittle adhesive. It was pilling out the little white hairs on her leg one by one. She was careful not to move, to have the sutras pull away and reveal her plan. It was exhausting work, the doctor warning her to stay calm as her heart rate rose on the monitor.

"Of course I'm just a civilian. I lost my medical license in the last war and was…" The doctor was happily rattling on and on, but by the time he turned back around, Murasaki had used a replacement jutsu and was gone.

The hall was unbelievably dark. There were a few torches here and there, but for the most part is was pitch black and smelled like fresh earth and stale water. Like the inside of an unbelievably old cave.

Murasaki was having problems moving her muscles, nearly having to drag her leg as she fled the operating room. Whatever had been in the I.V. had almost completely paralyzed her.

She ducked into one of the dark recesses of the hallway as the sirens began to go off. Her entire body felt like it was full of pins and needles as she flexed her fingers and toes in order to will back a fraction of mobility.

Her heart was hammering in her ears as three ninja ran past. She waited with baited breath until they passed, some agonizing feeling returning to her limbs.

She heard them stop. They were talking, their voices male. She could smell them, what was that scent? Petrol? No…it was peppery and musty.

Murasaki held her breath, trying hard to keep from coughing. This entire facility felt like a mass of chakra. She reached out, trying to find that little bit of her own.

It was stationary; they must have put him in a holding cell somewhere below her.

"Hey."

Murasaki felt a chill go down her spine and she looked up.

"Looks like we found a little mouse sneaking around." One of the men joked. He was impossibly tall, with a face like a bloated fish.

Murasaki stumbled back, hitting the wall full force. It felt like she'd been hit by something very large that had been moving very fast.

She gasped as the man grabbed her arm, linking his arms underneath her so she couldn't move.

"We should take her back to Orochimaru." One fo the others said, Murasaki couldn't tell which one at present.

"Nah, we can make him wait a bit." the third one had crooked teeth and an evil smile as he stepped towards Murasaki.

"Let's have a bit of fun." The tall one said, forcing Murasaki to the floor.

"Kin, stop it. You're being ridiculous." the second man said, Murasaki realizing he was the one with musty blue-grey hair.

"Don't be such a fag, Mojuu." The one with crooked teeth laughed. He grabbed a fist full of Murasaki's brown locks.

"What are you three doing?" It was the doctor. Murasaki heaved in inward sigh of relief. He seemed the most sensible out of the four. "Get her back to my lab immediately! Our security has been breached."

Kin dropped Murasaki to the floor.

"Take her, doc."

The doctor bent down, lifting her arm over his head and placing a hand on her waist.

"Come on now." Suddenly, he collapsed, his full weight landing on Murasaki's ribcage.

She could hear the men laughing as the doctor made a grunt of pain. The last think she could recall was the feeling of something heavy coming down on her head, and the pool of blood as her face collided with the floor.

* * *

A/N: BOOM. A wild update appears

That's right kids, I'm back.


	11. The Line

Kakashi heard the sirens going off and breathed a sigh of relief. Megumi had been by earlier to somehow poke fun and profess her eternal love for him simultaneously. Thankfully, she hadn't administered the 'medicine' she intended to give him -whatever that happened to be-, as the sirens had began at that point and everyone was put on lockdown.

A small amount of chakra had come back to him, but it was barely enough to sneeze at. He could hear guards thundering down the halls at random, voices yelling over the top of one another. And then came the silence.

The silence was long and drawn out, like the lingering moments before ones execution. Not even the alarms were screeching into the infernal blackness. It was just silence.

Without even the smallest sound, the door swung open and Kakashi heard the faintest of the most familiar voice, like some forgotten ancestor reaching out from the past.

"Kakashi, come on."

Kakashi scrambled to his feet as quickly as his broken bones would allow.

"Hurry, come on."

"Jiraiya-sama?"

The shadow at the door held up a hand for silence. Though the body had been altered, disguised, it was without a doubt the Toad Sage. There are some things one cannot simply hide, particularly not from Kakashi..

"This way." Jiraiya led Kakashi through a slow game of hide and seek. Even though the alarms had stopped, it was clear everyone was on high alert. Jiraiya was just striding past most of them in the darkness, no one even giving them a second thought. Kakashi didn't dare look up from the floor, for fear of blowing their cover. He just needed to focus, one foot before the other, in spite of the rattling pain in his body.

He focused instead on the soft sound of Jiraiya counting backwards under his breath, turning up a hallway here, going through a door there as they went. The incline of the floor suggested they were headed up, much to Kakashi's relief.

"We just need to find Murasaki and Maito-san and we can find our way back…" Jiraiya said, his voice heavy with and exited sort of tension as they neared the exit, his paces becoming almost impossible for Kakashi to match with a broken leg. "We're almost out, just come on…"

"You brought Murasaki-no-kimi with?" Kakashi had a hard time masking his surprise; he'd expected better judgment from both of them.

Here in the starling brightness of the watery sunlight, Kakashi could make out Jiraiya's disguise; long, slender fingers utterly devoid of pigment clutched at that slithery kimono of pale silk that hung off one impossibly frail shoulder.

Jiraiya said nothing, simply bristling until he finally replying in a cold, curt voice. "She volunteered…"

Kakashi knew that tone. That utter anger that was bourn solely of love and caring. Jiraiya had used that tone on him once or twice, and it was a signal to not push.

They rounded a corner, the dirt flood of the cave damp with moisture. Kakashi slipped, clutching the wall for support as his knee twisted in an unusual direction.

Jiraiya tried to catch him, grasping the jounin's arm tighter. A guard came around the corner and Kakashi felt Jiraiya's grip become unmercifully tight.

"Ah, Megumi-hime, what are you doing out here? This place is on lock-down, you should get back to your chamber."

Kakashi's fingers were starting to numb painfully as the older man stood, frozen at a loss for words. After what was only a matter of seconds, but felt like an eternity, Jiraiya tossed the long black hair over his shoulder and gave the guard an offended look.

The mans face immediately fell and he took a step back.

"That is to say, Megumi-hime, that we're only mission is to ensure your safety…"

Jiraiya continued with a look of distain, releasing his grip on Kakashi's arm by just a fraction. The feel of the blood rushing back to the limb was almost enough to make the already delirious jounin swoon.

"Do I look like I need help?" Jiraiya snapped finally, shaking more of those silky black strands over his shoulders. The guard gave her a startled look, but bowed politely.

"No. Forgive me." He muttered, before walking away. Jiraiya never broke his gaze until after the man had disappeared.

"Now to get out of here…" Jiraiya muttered darkly, placing his arm around Kakashi's shoulders for stability. The slight rush of panic was draining from him, reminding him of exactly how much pain he was in.

They stumbled through the dark, twisting and turning up and down dark corridors filled with dirt and filth, ducking into shadows to avoid detection.

Jiraiya began placing small sutras in the walls, to mark where they had been. Slowly, Kakashi could feel his chakra returning, which was of substantial comfort to the young man.

The air in the tunnels was slowly changing, the scent of rain and damp earth and the decay of foliage slowly wafting towards them.

There were guards more frequently, but subtlety and sleight of hand ensured their safe escape.

The exit was in sight, and Kakashi felt Jiraiya pick up the pace, nearly dragging him to the floor in the process.

But in a movement, Kakashi felt himself skidding to a halt, straight into Jiraiya's broad back. The genjutsu had stopped and Jiraiya was bristling.

"Stay behind me." he hissed. "And cover your ears."

Kakashi had barely the time to raise his hands before a sound wave shook the tunnel, threatening to bring a mountain of dirt down upon them.

Feeling weakened by the blast, he sank to the floor behind the sannin, his head reeling. He felt blood stain his mask as she weakly clasped his battered hands to his ears, the hot stickiness running over his lips and chin.

There was little to no doubt who they were up against. That shreik that rattled the walls; that was Megumi, the Siren of Sound.

XxX

When Murasaki came to, her entire body felt as if it had been shattered. There was blood all over the floor of her cell and immediately she knew what had happened.

The entire lower half of her body was naked, raw, and sore. There were handprints in the blood, where they had grasped her hips for stability. It felt like she had been run over, disemboweled, and left to die like a dog on the roadside.

The former shrine maiden coughed, retching as she twisted back into some semblance of a mobile position. It was apparent that something was terribly wrong. She stood shakily, groping in the dark. Her hand met cold flesh and she withdrew, her pulse rising. A closer inspection revealed the doctor. He sat there, slack-jawed and pale in the darkness, his dead eyes open and staring. There were defensive wounds on his arms, the blood staining the rolled up sleeves of his white tunic.

Slowly and painfully, she pulled herself up from the floor, crawling on her raw elbows until she found a suitable stabilizer to climb shakily to her feet.

Murasaki bent her knee, finding it faintly more comfortable to limp around as she looked for a way out.

There was a door, rough and splintery, but it held fast. Murasaki took a deep breath, trying to gather up her wits and her chakra.

It was at this point, the realization hit her. It felt as if something had been turned off. Her overall chakra capacity had been cut in half. It was like there was a hole in her body. A huge chunk of chakra was missing, beyond what had been drained by the sutras.

She could feel someone close by, someone beyond the door. It was faint, but their chakra was large, and dark, and familiar, and with them there was a smaller chakra, a sliver that sent a flush chill across Murasaki's skin.

She hobbled to the door, falling on her knee and wrenching the muscles in her back as she struggled, pounding her fist against the thick wood.

"Dad!" Her voice came out weak and hoarse. Her arms were moving, but she had to will them with every ounce of her strength, and when her fists hit the door, it only made a small, hollow noise.

She held back a dry sob, knowing full well that Jiraiya couldn't hear her. She could feel the chakras moving away from her, taking with it the last shred of hope.

Murasaki coughed, bringing up blood and bile. She'd been left to die.

Somehow, simultaneously she was filled with rage and self pity. For a brief moment, she wanted to cry, to throw a fit and give up, but she'd had these a million times before. While it tempted her to do just that, she knew she couldn't. She had to at least try. So what if no one came to her rescue? So what.

Clawing her way off the floor again, she stood shakily. She wasn't going to die in this place, not if she could help it.

The door had more of those damned papers on it. Murasaki wasn't sure if once she got out, her chakra would be restored completely or not. It certainly felt like it would never be the same again.

She hobbled back to the other end of the room, passing the deceased doctor as she went. It was far too painful to sit fully; her pelvis was most likely broken, if not at least bruised.

With one bruised hand against the wall, she caught her breath, trying to shake that cold, dead feeling that had settled in with the mind numbing pain.

In her minds eye, she imagined the paper on the door, feeling out the void with the remains of her chakra. With a gentle motion of her hand, she drew an invisible box around it and sealed it, crushing it with her spiritual energy.

Immediately, Murasaki felt like a gash had been torn, not in her body, but in her soul, and that spiritual force was draining out like blood.

Standing as still as she could, she closed her eyes to force out the pain, willing her broken forefinger to form part of the hitsuji hand seal.

Murasaki's hand brushed her bloody lips as her root chakra gate was forcibly yanked as wide as she could manage, her spiritual energy draining more than it ever had.

It felt like someone had hit her in the stomach right then. Like the back of her naval was being pulled with hooks and her intestines were about to fall out from between her bloodied legs.

Perhaps here she was hidden from the gods, or had somehow fallen out of there favor.

But as quickly as that thought came to her, she found herself sprawled out on the forest floor, the moist green moss seeming to sponge the blood, dirt and tears from her face.

Murasaki lay there on the forest floor, flat-out unwilling to move for fear she would shatter. The drugs were wearing off, all the pain coursing through her body like an unbridled river.

The rainwater ran freely down her body, dampening her thin camisole and washing the blood away from her bruised hips. She was still bleeding in some areas, and the incident had no doubt injured her internal organs and possibly ruptured them completely. It would be a slow death, and painful. But she'd die free.

Being exposed like this in the woods made her feel an even greater shame. The gods were watching, and she was defiling a sacred place. But at least she was aware of them and hadn't fallen completely from their sight. There was a small amount of comfort there.

"I could really use a bit of help right now." Murasaki laughed sickly, quietly, to herself as she pulled herself up shakily, nearly falling back down on the slippery moss. She struggled for stability, limping her way among the roots and undergrowth. After a few moments, she found a stick with a 'y' at the end, using it as a crutch as she awkwardly looked for a way out of the woods. She wasn't absolutely sure where she was, but judging by the flora around her, it couldn't have been far from Orochimaru's lair.

The ground was slippery and each step brought a fresh wave of pain surging through her body. Her sandals had disappeared with the rest of her clothes, and the mud felt strange as it gushed upwards, coating her nearly to the knee in some places. But it didn't seem as bad. Her feet were starting to lose feeling, becoming numb and rubbery.

Murasaki heard voices, stopping behind a camphor tree to listen. She couldn't risk an attack at this moment. She'd have to find another way out of a fight.

Somewhere, deep down, she knew that it would be useless. She had a sinking suspicion she would have to end it here. It seemed like such a shame, after so many uphill battles. After so many fights and so many people lost, it would end here.

But at the very least, she would die on her feet.

It was then the earth shook from a large explosion. Her entire body screamed in pain as she fell against a tree, part of the ground right next to her giving away as the cliff nearby sloughed with a tremendous roar. She bit her lip, drawing blood as she lay there against the tree, trying to catch her breath as the voices became steadily closer.

XxX

Kakakshi was ashamed at how quickly Jiraiya had beaten Megumi. It was a direct reflection on his own progress as a jounin, which seemed to be in some kind of retrograde.

But, as they limped from the fight and Jiraiya broke the genjutsu that Megumi had placed on Kakashi, Kakashi was just happy to be alive.

"One more thing." Jiraiya turned, eyeing the entrance as he raised a paper seal in his hand, flinging it against the floor of the cave.

The entire place went up with a roar and a blast just as two more guards saw them outside. If one could literally be blown to bits, it was these two men. It made for a sight Kakashi never had and never would quite get used to.

"Be ready for trouble." Jiraiya said, his shaggy white hair sticking to his face as one of the enormous leaves overhead grew heavy with moisture and bowed over him. "Orochimaru let us out easy. He wanted us to get away. He has something up his sleeve."

Kakashi tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his chest and leg, but he felt his knees buckle and he clutched the sannin for support.

"Let's just get out of here." Kakashi gasped, the fabric of his tattered mask clinging to his face. He'd been in worse shape before, but this was still pretty bad.

"Murasaki and Gai are waiting on the edge of the forest. We'll meet them on the way out."

As if on cue, there was the sound of desperate footsteps, a young man in green breaking through the sea of pale green foliage.

"Jiraiya-dono! I lost her!" Gai was speeding towards them as fast as he could, his face caked with dried blood and mud, matting his normally silky hair down. He looked terribly pale and was covered in cuts and bruises from a long fight. "We were ambushed…she was taken."

Jiraiya visibly paled, not even looking back to the crumbled entrance to the cave system. Kakashi felt his stomach sink into a bottomless pit. That sick feeling of dread came rushing in like water into a deep hole, the very same feeling he had the day when Obito and Rin were killed…

"Maito, you fool!" Jiraiya roared, grabbing Gai by the front of the vest and slamming him violently against a tree. "I trusted you with her!"

Gai looked exactly as Kakashi felt. Jiraiya was heaving, his shoulders rising and falling. Neither Gai nor Kakashi could determine if the man was just angry or trying not to cry.

"Gai? Father?" The voice was feeble, weak, and desperate, but without a doubt belonged to Murasaki.

A lump rose in Kakashi's throat as Jiraiya tore off through the foliage after his daughter.

"Dad, don't come any closer." Murasaki entreated. Kakashi and Gai exchanged glances before rushing in the direction of the voice.

"Both of you, stay back!" Jiraiya boomed, but it was too late.

When Gai and Kakashi came around the side of the twisted tree, Jiraiya was hastily searching for his med kit, his haori draped around the nearly naked teen's shoulders.

Kakashi stood, his good eye opened wide in horror. He could see the bruises on her hips, the cuts and gashes and incisions still oozing blood. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened.

Her lip had been split and was violently engorged, her left eye nearly swollen shut. It wasn't an attractive sight, but it was somehow an overwhelming relief to the young captain.

Murasaki refused to make eye contact with any one of them, her face burning with shame. Gai took off soaking cloak and attempted to drape it around her shoulders, but she moved away defensively.

There were no words spoken, just the gentle hushing sound of the rain pounding the canopy above them.

* * *

A/N: So, I had a bunch of finals that I had to see to, so this is short and quite a bit late. The good news is I should have a bit more free time as of today.


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